A Home for Miss Swan
by eywritereditor
Summary: Emma Swan travels from school to school and woman to woman until she stumbles upon Dr. Regina Mills, the principal at Storybrooke Preparatory Academy. Sparks fly, but will Regina's cold demeanor and dark past keep them apart? AU. Swan/Mills Teacher/Principal No magic, except for what happens between the sheets. M for language and eventual sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

**Thanks for reading, lovelies! This is my first piece of fanfiction, so I hope you enjoy! My plan is to update weekly, but I would probably update more quickly if people are interested!  
**

 **XX**

Chapter One:

Emma Swan's ancient yellow Bug sputtered to a stop as the gates to Storybrooke Preparatory Academy swung inward. She couldn't help the drop of her jaw as the wrought iron revealed twisting cobblestone roads, thick skyward-reaching pine trees, and an impressive castle of a private school, its shadow swallowing her Bug.

Her mouth went dry. _What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

Maybe she would have turned around then and there and placed a call to be relocated as a long-term substitute elsewhere. However, a school bus beeped at her from behind. Startled, her foot fell off the brake, bringing her closer to the monster of an academy. She weaved along the cobblestones, realizing that what she had originally perceived to be a single building was in fact a series of old limestone fronts with bubbled glass windows and wooden doors.

"How am I supposed to find the teacher's lot?" she grumbled. "And the principal's office."

She steered with her knee, hands fumbling with the stack of papers she'd thrown half in her briefcase before departing late from her apartment.

It _is_ Monday, she chastised herself. She should have gotten up sooner, but this was her first substitute gig in a week, and she'd grown fond of her bed in her free time.

"Better yet, you could have looked for the map in all that paperwork before signing it," she said. "Then you could have called and asked why of all places they decided to send you into this god awful maze."

As if the school took pity on her, a sign appeared as she turned the corner, pointing her toward the faculty lot. She parked, shuffled all of the paperwork into her briefcase, aside from the crumpled map, and locked her doors behind her. She glanced at her watch and saw it was minutes until 7:15 am. With classes starting at 7:45, she was sure to be late, and if not late, frazzled in front of her first class.

But there were worse things, she supposed, like continuing to be unemployed as the money from the music she'd sold continued its descent into obscurity. She shook the thought out of her head and all of the ones that came with it. Pulling her long, blonde hair off of her sweaty neck and into a ponytail, she navigated inside the largest of the buildings and in the direction of principal's office.

The hallways smelled like wood varnish with the hint of mildew as she turned down the hallway that led her to the principal. Her hands grew sweatier as the windows shrank. She decided if she were a kid at Storybrooke Prep, she would probably do her best to keep from being sent to this dungeon.

At last, she reached the end of the hall and nudged open the surprisingly modern glass door that took her into a receptionist's space.

A woman with blonde hair swept up into a bun on the top of her head and tiny features smiled up at her. "How can I help you?"

"Uh, I'm Emma Swan, the long-term substitute for Mary Margaret Blanchard." She fumbled through her paperwork, searching for the page with her signature.

With a tinkering laugh, the woman stopped her. "Hold on. I'll let Dr. Mills know you're here. You can have her verify your paperwork."

"Thanks." Emma quirked a smile at the smaller woman who was, she couldn't help but note, quite cute.

"Dr. Mills, an Emma Swan is here to see you about Mrs. Blanchard's position," the receptionist said as she pushed the speakerphone button on her desk phone.

"Send her in."

The three words uttered were cold, harsh. Emma's heart pitter-pattered a little faster in her chest. The last principal she'd worked under at Storybrooke Middle School, Mr. Hopper, had been absent-minded and bumbling, but never unkind.

"Go on," the receptionist urged as Emma stood clutching her briefcase close to her person. "She doesn't like to wait."

That had Emma moving, tripping over her feet in her haste to make an entrance. She practically fell into the principal's office, a hair's breadth from toppling over Dr. Mills, herself. Emma straightened, started to move back into her own bubble of personal space, but suddenly forgot how to move.

Dr. Regina Mills was the finest female specimen she'd ever seen, and she smelled like apples. From thick brunette hair and striking bourbon eyes to olive skin and toned body, she left Emma's already unbalanced legs even weaker. And were those slight laugh lines she detected around the other woman's plump mouth? She wanted to lean forward and find out.

"Miss Swan, are you quite all right?" the principal asked flatly, her body stiff from Emma's intrusion.

She gave under her glare and shrunk back. "Ms. Mills, I apologize."

"It's _Dr_. Mills," the woman responded, frowning. "I believe you have some paperwork for me?"

"Uh, yes, of course." Emma returned to thumbing through her paperwork, cringing at every crease she saw. She could feel the principal's gaze raking over her, and her face heated under the scrutiny.

"Here." She thrust the untidy bundle in the direction of the perfectly put together woman.

Dr. Mills accepted the papers with a wrinkle of her nose. She took a half-seat on her huge and immaculate desk as she glanced through it. Emma found herself wishing she could be that desk, if even for half a second. As soon as the thought passed through her head, she banished it.

But not before she felt herself grow even redder.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ _I don't even know this woman and worse yet, she's my_ boss. _Get it together, Swan._

Not to mention there was an undefined but definite age difference between the two of them.

She straightened her shoulders, which served to remind her of the fact she'd dressed in khakis, a short-sleeved V-neck, and a vest that when paired with her Converse screamed, "Hey, can you tell I'm a lesbian." Meanwhile, the principal across from her wore a tight-fitting lilac dress, blazer, a thick black watch cuff on her wrist, and dark pumps that accentuated her femininity. And those long muscular legs…

Emma averted her gaze.

"Everything seems to be in order," Dr. Mills said. She placed the paperwork on her desk and slid it as far away from her person as possible. "But let us go through a few pieces of vital information. Miss Swan, are you aware of our dress code?"

"I-I'm not. I apologize."

"You're expected to be in business casual dress daily. Casual Fridays do not exist here at Storybooke Preparatory. If you do not have the proper attire, go out and buy it." She shifted on her desk, crossing her arms. "In addition, you are to have no visible tattoos."

Emma grabbed her left wrist subconsciously. "You saw that?"

"Your little flower?" Dr. Mills asked. "Indeed I did, dear, when you handed me your paperwork."

Emma took a moment to be impressed. Principal Mills had master skills when it came to checking someone out. She could take a note from Regina's book, instead of freezing up and drooling over the older woman as her first impression.

"You'll wear long sleeves in the future, yes? Or apply a little cover up." Dr. Mills examined her face, no doubt taking in the fact that Emma applied no make-up and had a pimple starting at her hairline.

"Of course I will."

"Excellent. Now I do assume you've briefed yourself on what you'll be teaching."

"Literature," Emma said, "6th to 9th grade. My specialty in college. I mean, I can't write for anything, but I like to read."

Regina's sculpted eyebrows rose higher and higher as Emma rambled.

"Anyhow," she said when Emma trailed off, "the lessons are prescriptive for the remainder of the semester. Mrs. Blanchard at least accomplished that much before taking her leave. Do not deviate from the lessons she left. Our learning outcomes adhere to our Board of Trustees' expectations. If you do not teach what the children are expected to learn, then we do not open our doors."

Emma nodded her understanding.

Regina reached behind herself and handed her a crisp sheet of paper. "Here is your schedule. Please…" Her eyes drifted to Emma's messy briefcase. "…Try not to lose it. I'll escort you to your classroom. We haven't much time before classes start."

She followed Principal Mills out of her office, past the smiling receptionist, and back into the dank hallway. She practically had to run after the smaller woman, Regina took such long, powerful strides.

She glanced at her watch. They had only 5 minutes until classes began. She would have no time to scope out the teacher's lounge for some much needed caffeine, no time to stow her lunch, and no time to prepare.

 _Dear god, don't let Regina stay and watch first period,_ she begged.

They turned down several hallways, the number of students thinning as time ticked by, went up a flight of steps to the stuffy second floor, and stopped at the first door on the left. Principal Mills placed a hand on the doorknob.

"I will be stopping in periodically to check on your performance," she said. "There is more we will need to cover, so you can expect me back on your planning period. Until then, I do hope you will manage."

She gave Emma a look that offered little faith in her teaching abilities before swinging the door open. She strolled inside, high heels punishing the hardwood floor. Emma shuffled in behind her.

The classroom, which was filled to capacity with boisterous sixth graders, went silent as their principal took command. Emma stood off to the side, steadying herself by touching the wooden desk that would be hers for the remainder of the semester. She noted a single empty seat right across from where she would be sitting. Aside from that, dozens of curious eyes fixed on her.

She couldn't help it. She grinned at them. Several smiled back, some more tentatively than others.

"Who's that?" one brave kid asked from the back.

"If you'll remember," Regina said, voice terse, "Mrs. Blanchard is out on maternity leave for the end of the semester. In her place, we have Miss Swan. You will give her the same respect that you would give me."

She let her words sink in as she surveyed the now silenced preteens.

"She will report any misbehavior directly to me, and I have encouraged her to send any discipline issues straight to my office. Is that understood?"

There were 19 nods from the principal's audience. Only the empty seat gave no response.

"Very well. Miss Swan, I leave them in your hands."

With a curt nod in Emma's direction, the principal crossed the classroom. Her hand fell on the door to exit when it swung open in her face. An out-of-breath boy raced into the room, his backpack bouncing behind him.

"Henry," the principal exclaimed.

The boy turned surprised eyes up to her. "Mom!"

 _Mom?_ The idea of Dr. Mills as a mother didn't mesh with the mental image Emma had created of the older woman.

"Why are you coming to class late?" Regina asked, and Emma took a moment to appreciate how stunned the principal seemed, a small fact that made her infinitely more human.

"I'm—" The bell went off. "—not late." He slid into the empty seat across from Emma's desk.

"We'll talk about this later," the principal said, eyes flicking from her son, to Emma, and back again.

When Henry didn't reply, she stalked out without another word.

"Wow," Emma said, unable to keep from chuckling. "That was a close one."

Henry beamed up at her, about as innocent as a raccoon caught in the trash. A wave of laughs made their way through the classroom, and the tension that Regina left behind dissipated.

"Okay then," Emma said, clapping her hands and moving into the space Dr. Mills had previously occupied. "I know we're supposed to be passing out _Hatchet_ by Gary Paulsen today—and we'll get to that. But let's do a round of introductions first, shall we?"

In the back of her head, the warning the principal had given her to stay on track echoed. She ignored it as she allowed her first student, Adam Gold, to take it away.

 _You might own this school, Regina,_ she thought, _but you don't own me._


	2. Chapter 2

**Wow. A huge thank you to everyone who has followed the story so far. I felt so inspired by those of you who cared enough to follow that I decided to upload a second chapter. I'll probably upload a third tonight as well. Reviews and follows much appreciated! Both prompt me to write faster!**

 **This is an AU, so I took the liberty of giving Emma some skills in the kitchen-as well as other expansions to their general characters. I hope ya'll don't mind.  
**

 ***Credit for Henry's story goes in full to Once Upon a Time. Thank you for being the inspiration for all of this, and please don't sue me! I promise it's important to the plot as a whole! :)  
**

 **XX**

Chapter Two:

After first period, Henry popped up to Emma's desk. He traced the nameplate that still read MARY MARGARET BLANCHARD in bold print.

"Can I help you, Henry?" she asked, unable to keep from smiling at the boy whose big brown eyes hadn't left hers the entire period.

"I just wanted to say sorry for being almost late," he said.

She chuckled. "Well, you're going to be almost late again if you don't get a move on."

He smacked his forehead with his folder. "You're right. Bye, Miss Swan."

She waved to him as her 7th graders weaved past to take their seats.

 _How the hell did an ice queen like Regina Mills end up with a sweet kid like that?_ she wondered.

The question stayed with her until she dismissed her fourth period class a few minutes early and found her way to the teacher's lounge.

To her extreme pleasure, she found the lounge unoccupied. It was also the polar-opposite of the hallway that led to the principal's dungeon. In addition to the large windows that let in the late summer, Maine air, the lounge had double doors that opened into a courtyard where several students enjoyed their lunches on benches and at stone tables. Emma saw Henry engaged in a heated conversation with another boy from her first period class whose name she recalled was Tom. She smiled, despite herself.

"See something interesting there?" a voice asked from behind her.

She jumped, spinning, and came face-to-face with a tall brunette with a lanky body and Cheshire cat grin painted on her face.

"Sayyy," the other woman continued, "you're pretty cute."

Emma felt herself flush. "Uh, thanks."

"The name's Ruby Lucas, but you can call me Red." The woman extended a hand for Emma to shake. "I take it you're Blanchard's sub?"

"Yes. I'm Emma, Emma Swan."

"Swan." Ruby mulled the name over, then winked. "It suits you."

"Thanks…I think."

The door to the teacher's lounge opened once more, and a slew of teachers headed in.

"Hey, we'd better grab seats before they take them all," Ruby said, nudging Emma's arm.

And like that, she'd made her first friend. Well, her first after Henry.

She joined Ruby at a table in the corner where she unpacked her squished peanut butter and banana sandwich.

"Is that all you're having?" Ruby asked.

"This and coffee," Emma said. "I woke up too late this morning to pack a real lunch."

"Well." Ruby sashayed to the microwave and popped her Tupperware inside. "Now that you've met me, you'll never go hungry again. I happen to work night shifts at the greatest dinner in Storybrooke. You're in luck because I just so happened to bring extra cheesy chicken casserole with me today. Granny's specialty."

"Bring it on," Emma said. She reached for another bite of her sandwich and realized she'd already devoured the whole thing.

Ruby rejoined her at the table and passed over an extra plastic fork. The delicious scent of melted cheese rose from the Tupperware that she shoved in Emma's direction. Emma took a bite of the casserole and just about melted into a blonde puddle.

"Ruby, this is amazing."

"Oh please," Ruby said, "it's all right. It's better the first day. And call me Red, yeah?"

"Right." Emma shoveled another forkful of heaven into her mouth. "Red."

"So how long have you been doing the substitute teaching thing?"

Emma chewed, thinking. "A couple of years now. Ever since I moved back to Maine after realizing a career in music wasn't going to happen for me."

She flushed, wondering if she'd revealed too much, but her lunch date breezed right past her discomfort.

"What a place to get saddled with as the long-term sub, huh? I mean, the kids are great and the staff aren't too bad, but Regina. Now she's a piece of work. Here we have a little nickname for her. The Ice Queen."

An image of the principal in her deliciously tight dress popped into the forefront of Emma's mind. "Hmm…"

"I've worked for her ever since I got my degree," Red went on. "If I weren't contracted here, I might think about transferring somewhere else. That is, if the benefits weren't so good."

"What is it about Regina that's so bad?" Emma asked. "She just seems a little uptight to me."

Red gestured for Emma to eat more. "She's demanding, overbearing, controlling. She micromanages everything the teachers do. Don't get me wrong, she's nice to look at, but she's insane about how she runs this place."

Shoving more of the cooling food into her mouth, Emma made a noncommittal noise.

Red laughed. "But listen to me, going on and on about that woman when you've just gotten your feet wet with her. I don't mean to scare you, Swan. The rest of us teachers are great fun. You'll see."

With that, she waved over the cluster of teachers standing by the coffeepot.

"Everyone," she said, "meet Emma Swan, Mary Margaret's substitute."

A man with kind blue eyes and dark blonde hair reached forward to shake her hand. "It's nice to meet my wife's savior in her time of need," he said. "My name's David Nolan. If I can do anything for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

"Nice to meet you," she said. "I hope your wife is doing well."

The introductions continued, all of the names from the day spinning in Emma's head. She was almost glad when the bell rang and the herd thinned out.

"What do you have next on your docket?" Red asked as she finished washing out the Tupperware that Emma had practically licked clean.

"Planning period," she said. She poured herself a huge cup of coffee, sprinkled in some cinnamon, and took a whiff. The potent smell of ground beans made her feel a thousand times lighter.

"Lucky you," Red said. "I'm off to teach these monkeys calculus."

They parted ways at the staircase, Red heading on down the hall, and Emma climbing the steps with her coffee already half gone.

She nudged her classroom door open with her hip. She was relieved to see it dark inside, but her relief shriveled when she saw Dr. Mills standing by the windows.

"Hi," Emma said dumbly as the principal faced her.

"Did you forget I informed you I would be stopping by on your planning period? You can switch on the light, Miss Swan. I just left it off because I have a slight headache."

Emma did as she was told, disliking the way Regina winced as the lights flickered to life. "We can leave them off if you'd like."

A small smile twitched in the corner of Regina's mouth, or at least she comforted herself that the ghost of one had appeared there. "Well, that seems mildly inappropriate, doesn't it, Miss Swan."

She felt her face turn as red as a Flamin' Hot Cheeto. "R-right."

Regina Mills' lingering gaze was too much for her to take after consuming half a greasy casserole. She hid behind her coffee. "W-What was it we needed to talk about?"

"Ah, yes, paperwork." The principal's pumps clicked their way over to her. Regina leaned against Emma's desk, her dress hitching higher up on her shapely thighs.

She was so close Emma could smell that alluring apple scent. She worried she would start drooling, but the principal was quick to distract her with a mound of paperwork.

"Every teacher here is an advisor to an after school club, Miss Swan," Dr. Mills said. "Mary Margaret oversaw the Cooking Club, which, given your resume, I thought you might be interested in, but there are a couple of other options as well."

Emma nodded, too overwhelmed by the woman's husky voice and closeness to form actual sentences.

"There's Men's Water Aerobics."

Emma's nose wrinkled, and Regina laughed. She actually laughed. "I thought not. Then it's the Cooking Club or the literary magazine, which the students have dubbed _Once_."

" _Once_ ," Emma repeated.

Her mind was transported to her younger days, to her college years, and the brief time after that where she lived in a studio apartment with her ex-girlfriend. The two of them worked odd jobs, while writing poetry and music that complimented it. They sold that first piece for more money than Emma could have ever dreamed. But that had been their fifteen minutes of fame. Emma wondered which closet she'd shoved her keyboard and guitar into after moving back to Storybrooke.

"Miss Swan?"

She snapped back to reality. "Um, yes?"

"You need to make your decision."

"Right." _Cooking Club,_ said her mind. "The literary magazine," said her mouth.

Regina's groomed eyebrows jumped. "Are you quite sure? From your resume, I assumed your strengths lay elsewhere."

"I'm a literature teacher," Emma said. "I think it would make sense for me to work on _Once_ with the students."

Dr. Mills refused to give in. "Your resume lists that in the past you've volunteered with after school programs involving culinary arts. Our school is known for its after school programming. Every child who attends here also participates in at least one after school activity each day. Have you ever worked on a literary magazine before?"

"No," she admitted. "But I know a thing or two about good poetry."

Maybe it was her tone. Maybe it was the haunt of the past in her green eyes. Whatever the case, the principal backed down.

"Very well, Miss Swan. Literary magazine, it is. The club meets every Monday, so you'll start today after classes. I do hope you didn't have any plans."

"Just to go shopping," Emma said, smiling sickly sweet, "for business casual attire."

Surprise widened Regina's eyes, an expression that Emma took great pride in bringing to light.

 _Yes, Mills, I can dish it back, but can you take it?_

"I do hope you'll do that. Plaid vests are _so_ 80s." Regina's words dripped mirth from her plump lips.

"I'll try to find a blazer that matches yours."

Emma couldn't believe how much she was enjoying this second encounter, this beautiful woman who was practically draped across her desk. And was it her wild imagination, or was there flirtation in Regina's bourbon stare.

"Please don't. There's only room for one of me in this world," Regina said.

Emma couldn't agree more. If there were two Regina's, she might combust. "Besides, Henry might get confused."

"Speaking of Henry," the principal said, straightening, and suddenly she was Dr. Mills again. " Did he tell you why he was late to class?"

"We didn't have time to discuss it in class," Emma said. "He stayed after to apologize, but I sent him on his way because I didn't want him to be late again."

"That was kind of you," Dr. Mills replied. "Well, it may happen again. He has a bit of a habit of winding up in the wrong place at the wrong place. He—" She paused. "He was diagnosed with ADHD at a young age."

She spouted the revelation, cheeks glowing pink.

"He's a great kid, Regina," Emma said gently. "And he's in good hands."

At that, the principal snapped upright. "We'll see about that."

She headed for the door, then glanced back at Emma, gazing down her nose at the blonde. "And you'll do well to remember to address me as _Dr. Mills_."

She disappeared, leaving Emma alone to realize she was holding her breath.

"What the hell is with that woman?" she muttered. "And what the hell is with _me_?"

She couldn't remember the last time a chick had her in such a tizzy. She liked things in cute, neat packages like the one the receptionist came in, not beautiful brunettes with control issues as obvious as a mountain. She liked things that she could compartmentalize, that she could place on a shelf when she was done with them and easily move on. That was how her life had been since Boston. New girls, new schools, new half-lives around each corner.

She wasn't about to let Regina Mills fuck that up.

She made a mental rule for herself right then and there. No more thoughts about that woman. Period.

Somehow she kept from breaking the rule, even after she dismissed her last class and went on an epic search for the literary magazine's hub. She found the closet-like space that the club utilized in the next building. The room smelled like hot computer screens, and she tripped over a couple of spare monitors before she opened the windows to let in a breeze.

She surveyed the space. Past copies of _Once_ sat in dusty bookshelves along one wall. A large wooden desk like the one in her classroom took up another corner. The middle of the room was lined with sleeping computers and printouts of poems and sketches and stories. Though the space was small, it was well lived in. She wondered who the advisor to the literary magazine had been before her.

Before she could poke through old copies of the magazine to find out, students poured in. She recognized a couple of them—Ariel, an eighth grader from her third period and Tom, Henry's friend from first.

"Where's Dr. Mills?" Tom asked her as the students settled in their chairs.

"Dr. Mills? Why would she be here?"

"She's our advisor," Ariel explained. "Or was last year. She hasn't been in as much this semester."

"I didn't know that," Emma said. _Will wonders never cease? What would Regina want with a literary magazine?_

And with those questions, her rule of not thinking of the brunette was officially demolished.

"Let's get started, shall we?" Emma said to disrupt her thoughts. "Would anyone care to share what the heck it is you guys do in here?"

There was an appreciative round of laughter before hands shot in the air.

"Ariel?" Emma asked.

The redhead began to speak, but the sound of the door opening and slamming cut her off.

Emma turned around. "Henry," she exclaimed.

"Sorry I'm late," he said.

He slipped into the empty seat next to Tom.

She frowned down at the roster of students Regina had given her. "Your name isn't on here, kid. Are you sure you're in the right place?"

"I'm sure."

"I'll check with Dr. Mills later," she told him. "Ariel, go on with your explanation."

The redhead launched into a speech about literary truth and the importance of grassroots arts. At last, she wound down, and Emma could give them the go-ahead to pick up on where they'd left off with reading—and writing—submissions.

"Miss Swan," Henry called.

She joined him, and he passed her a few wrinkled sheets of paper.

"Can you read this?" he asked. "It's my story."

"I'd love to," she said, impressed. "I'll try to have it back to you before you leave today."

He grinned up at her. "I'm going to work on more of it while you read that part."

She sank into her desk chair, ignoring the mound of papers that her 9th grade class had handed in that day, and started reading.

 _"Once upon a time, there was an enchanted forest filled with all the classic characters we know. Or think we know. One day they found themselves trapped in a place where all their happy endings were stolen…"_

Emma was so lost in Henry's story that when knuckles rapped on her desk, she toppled half out of her chair, papers flying out of her hands.

"Very nice, Miss Swan," a familiar voice rumbled, "but would you care to tell me what my son is doing here?"

"Dr. Mills," Emma gasped. "I didn't hear you come in. I was…" She gestured at the pages she'd dropped.

"My son is meant to be at tennis practice right now. After all, his name is not listed on the roster that I gave you, now is it?"

"No, but—"

The principal's plump lips drew into a sharp, thin line. "I do not tolerate buts, Miss Swan. Henry, come here right now."

His gaze danced between his mother's and Emma's before he joined them at the desk.

"What do you think you're doing?" Regina asked, her hand on her curvy hip. "This is the third time I've caught you sneaking in here this semester, instead of showing up to practice. I'm sick and tired of your misbehavior."

"Reg—Dr. Mills," Emma tried, "have you read Henry's story? It's amazing. Maybe this is a good place for him to..."

The fire in the principal's gaze burned away Emma's words. "This matter is between _me_ and _my son._ Do you understand that?"

She took Henry by his shoulder and steered him from the room. The door banged closed behind them before Emma could respond.

She realized the rest of the class sat in the same stunned silence she felt, staring in their wake.

"Henry just made a little mistake," she said, wiping her sweaty hands on her pants. "It's nothing. Go back to work, everyone."


	3. Chapter 3

**Something SUPER strange happened when I tried to upload this document before, so I'm trying again! I didn't want to leave off with Chapter 2 tonight because it doesn't exactly end on the best note. I'm following the typical structure for a romance novel, so you can expect a slow burn (with MAJOR pay off at the end). I hope you can suffer through these chapters until then. Please read and follow, so I can return the favor! I love Swan/Mills fics, and I love you all for reading! :)**

 **XX**

Chapter Three:

By the time Emma left the school, she was infuriated.

"How the hell can she talk to Henry that way? That kid's got serious talent with words."

She slammed her briefcase into her Bug and locked herself inside.

"ADHD my ass, not a single one of those other kids sat there and worked as hard as he did on his piece for the magazine. And she wants to take that away from him?"

She gripped the well-worn steering wheel, struggling to control her rage.

 _What was that rule about not giving Regina Mills a second thought?_ she reminded herself. _Well, it's time to stick to it._

With a deep breath, she twisted the key in the ignition, and her old Volkswagen chugged to life. She backed out from where she'd parked crookedly between a red truck and the curb.

"I just need a bath and a glass of wine," she told her Bug. "Then everything will be fine."

She was so engrossed in the fantasy of soap bubbles between her toes and a chilled glass of Pinot Grigio in her hand that when a black Mercedes cut her off, she nearly rear-ended it.

"What the hell?" she growled, honking and lifting her middle finger to flip the car the bird.

A pair of bourbon eyes met hers from the rearview mirror of the 560SL. Her mouth went dry as she recognized Regina's pursed lips and raised brows. Henry's small head turned around in the backseat. He waved.

She shrank down in her seat as the pair of cars waited for the gate to the school to swing open. She grumbled, "You should have used your turn signal, Regina. That's why they come pre-installed."

As if to fully showcase her annoyance with the blonde, Regina peeled onto the road when the gate was open, leaving Emma's struggling Bug to trail after it.

By the time Emma arrived home to her apartment, which sat in the middle of Storybrook's old town center, she all but collapsed on her couch. Maybe she could have fallen asleep with her Converse still on and a throw pillow half under her head, but she dragged herself to the kitchen to pop leftover curry into the microwave. She ate while she undressed, swallowing rice and chickpeas without tasting either. When she was naked and the bowl licked clean, she turned on the bathwater and let the tub fill to the brim with water so hot it hurt her skin to look at it.

Emma added Epson salts, lit a lavender candle, then slid one slim leg into the water. She hissed from the contact. Her skin's pink hue deepened as she lowered herself to her knobby knees, to her small bellybutton, then clear to her chin. The breath whooshed out from her lungs as the heat stole any remaining thoughts from her mind.

"Peace at last," she whispered.

If only she didn't have a mound of grading to do after she was done turning herself into a raisin. Still, there would be a respectable paycheck coming in at the end of the week. Maybe she'd see what the receptionist had planned for the weekend. Maybe Red would be free. A smile twitched at the corners of her mouth as she lathered up her long, blonde hair. It had been awhile since she'd had fun with a girl friend or a girlfriend. These days she only saw Killian when he came into town or Neal and his pals from the last Storybrooke school she'd worked at when she went out.

Maybe it was time to have a friend of her own again. She'd been lacking on that front, since she returned from Boston.

Or maybe it was time to get laid.

Like she'd been summoned, the image of Regina Mills, her dress riding high on her thighs appeared in Emma's mind. Despite the lavender candle burning, she could smell the woman's apple spice perfume, see the darkness in that sexy bourbon gaze. A soft noise slipped out from between her lips.

Her eyes flew open.

 _No, no, no._

She was not going to have a fantasy about her boss, about a woman she'd known for less than 12 hours, a woman who thought she had the teaching capabilities of an ant.

"You're not 18 anymore, Swan," she muttered as she scrubbed hard at her skin with a luffa. "You can control your libido."

She finished her shower and blew out the candle. Wrapped in her fuzzy robe with glass of wine in hand, she settled herself at her two-top kitchen table to grade essays on _Romeo and Juliet._

As the sun fell from the sky, Emma's eyelids grew heavier. She marked up yet another incorrect MLA citation, but the words blurred in front of her.

"Just…get through…one more," she murmured.

Her head hit the table seconds later, and she fell into a hard sleep.

 _She wore white. She stood in the middle of a dense forest. Around her, the voices of a dozen birds called out from the leaves. A shadow moved through the trees. The birds went silent._

Emma jerked out of her slumber, her heart pounding in her chest. She couldn't remember all of her dream, just a sense of foreboding, a sense that everything had changed.

She wiped a string of drool off her chin. She was still in her kitchen, her skinny butt aching from being pressed to the unforgiving wood of her seat for too long. She pushed the button on her watch. It lit up, revealing the time to be a little before 5 am.

The thought of her comfortable queen bed passed through her mind, but she shrugged it to the side. Today she would do things right. Be at school not on time, but early.

She fumbled for the light switch, gathered the papers she'd graded, and gulped down two glasses of water from the tap. In her room, she sniffed at the armpits of the shirt she'd run in Sunday.

 _It's fine._

She pulled on her running clothes, laced up her tennis shoes, and hit the pavement. 45 minutes later, rivulets of sweat swam between her breasts, and her breath sounded harsh to her ears, even with Emancipator playing through her headphones. One shower later, and she felt like new. The only thing she needed to make her fully human again was coffee.

She breathed in the scent of her first cup, while she tossed a couple of frozen pancakes into the toaster. Once she'd moved back from Boston, she'd taken to devouring food like a racehorse after the Kentucky Derby.

There had been a time when she savored each individual flavor on her tongue, a time when ingredients were like chords on a guitar that created a song.

Today, she swallowed her peanut butter pancakes, frozen blueberries, and fake maple syrup down without tasting any of it.

Much of her current life was like this too, she realized. Tasteless.

But she was 25 now. It had been two years since Kathryn left her, two years since Kathryn's death.

 _Kathryn._

She clutched her mug so tight her fingers cramped. She might have stood there forever, lost in the storm of her thoughts, but the 6:30 alarm on her watch beeped.

"Shit." She gulped down the rest of her coffee, dressed in black jeans and the only blazer she owned, threw the contents of her briefcase together, and deserted her residence. When she was halfway to Storybrooke Prep, she realized she'd forgotten to pack a lunch. She could only hope Red would bring leftovers from the diner again and save her from starvation.

She parked in the same spot as yesterday. Unlike the day before, only a few other cars sat in the lot, excluding Regina's. She'd made it before 7. She smiled for the first time that morning and decided to pay a visit to a certain blonde who shared a space with the principal.

 _What's life without a little risk?_

When Emma nudged open the glass door, her heart sagged. The receptionist's desk sat dark and empty. However, the principal's door stood ajar, and her light was on.

 _Damn my luck. She must park in a different place.  
_

She was in the process of sneaking back out when Regina stepped from her office, saying, "Tink, I'm glad you're here. The Head of the Board will—"

Her words dropped off as her eyes found Emma's.

She stood there dumbfounded because the brunette's hair looked like she'd run her fingers through it multiple times on the left side, and she wore a pair of black-framed glasses that slid down the bridge of her nose. At that moment, Emma couldn't imagine anything cuter than the disheveled principal whose feet were not clad in sky-high stilettos, but bare with unpainted toenails. Too slowly, her gaze swept up the other woman's body, taking in the tight scarlet dress and the black bra straps that peeked out from her sleeves.

"Miss Swan, what _are_ you doing here?" Regina asked, voice stern and cheeks pink.

"I-I was looking for Tink," Emma stammered. "I didn't know you'd be in so early."

"Oh really?" Regina smirked. "I'm always here. This may as well be my second home. If you need my assistant, she should be in shortly. Did you forget some of your paperwork in that…mess…you brought me yesterday?"

"'Fraid so," Emma lied.

"Well, you can leave it with me. Come into my office, dear. Don't just stand there gaping like a fish out of water."

Regina turned and headed back into her office. Her hips practically hypnotized Emma as they swayed. Her ass had the same apple shape as her perfume's sweet smell. She dragged her stare away, feeling like a lecher the way her body responded to her boss.

"Are you coming?" Regina asked from inside.

Emma's insides gave a pleasant twist. She grimaced and muttered under her breath, "Well, now I'd like to."

"What was that?" the principal asked.

"Nothing," Emma said as she joined Regina.

She bent over her briefcase, realizing she shouldn't have lied about having paperwork for Tink because now she had nothing to hand her expectant boss.

"Uh," she said, standing up straight again. "What do you know. I forgot it again."

She expected a frown to appear on the other woman's face. Instead she was rewarded with a smile that looked almost…fond.

"Miss Swan, I am beginning to wonder how you manage to arrive anywhere in one piece."

"I'm sorry," she said. "Normally I'm not this out of sorts."

The words couldn't have been truer. Though she might not be the most organized or punctual person in the world, she normally didn't live life in such a flustered state. In fact, things had been quite boring, her emotions flat-lined, until she'd arrived at Storybrooke Prep the day before.

She glanced at her watch. The face of the Garmin read 7:15.

"Well, I didn't mean to bother you," she said. "I'll head to my classroom and bring that paperwork tomorrow."

She started to leave when Regina spoke up. "Would you like a cup of coffee? I have a Keurig."

Emma's eyes slid up to meet the other woman's.

"It might help you sort yourself out before classes starts."

Regina's cheeks were deliciously flushed, Emma noted.

"Yes," she said, setting her briefcase down, "I would like a cup."

She allowed herself to enjoy the view of Regina's backside as the principal busied herself with preparing mugs for each of them.

"Do you take cream or sugar?" Regina asked.

"Cinnamon, if you have it," Emma said absently as her eyes traced the tenseness in the principal's slender neck.

Her hands itched to rub out the obvious strain. She could almost feel Regina's soft, olive skin responding under her touch. She sucked in a sharp breath as heat pooled in her belly.

"Cinnamon?" Regina asked. "I'm afraid I don't have any of that here. Do you really put it in your coffee?"

Emma snapped her gaze to the more appropriate location of the bookshelf across the room. Shame replaced her desire. She had absolutely no right to allow her thoughts to wander where they had, not today, not yesterday, not ever. But Regina was like a magnet, and as hard as she tried to fight it, her stare found its way back.

"I put cinnamon in everything," she said. "Coffee, tea, hot cocoa, even my smoothies. You should try it sometime."

"Well." Regina faced her once more. "There might be some in the teacher's lounge if you'd like to accompany me."

She winked, and Emma's poor heart about gave out. "Uh, I'd love to."

The principal slipped her feet into a pair of shiny black pumps and handed her a white mug that said "World's Best Mom" with a picture of smiling Regina and a much younger Henry. Their fingers brushed against one another. Both of them sprang away at the contact, Emma's whole body as hot as an oven.

As they exited in tandem, Emma caught Tink's stare. The receptionist froze in her chair as the two women emerged from the cave-like office.

"D-Dr. Mills," the petite woman stammered. "You didn't tell me you had a morning appointment, did you? I'm sorry. I would have sent you a reminder last night before I left."

"It's fine, Miss Bell," the principal said. "Emma was unexpected."

 _She said my name,_ Emma marveled. _My actual name._

Surprise that mirrored Emma's flickered across Tink's expression before she composed herself. "Of course, Dr. Mills. Will you be back in time for your meeting with the Head of the Board of Trustees? Or shall I see if we can reschedule?"

"There's no need to rearrange the world. I'm just going to the teacher's lounge, not to Mars and back," Regina snapped, the ice queen reemerging.

Emma had to trot to catch up with the older woman as she headed into the hallway.

 _Damn her. How is it she walks faster in heels than out of them?_

Halfway down the hall, Regina ceased moving. Emma tried to stop in time, but she fell into the other woman's back, only just shifting her cup of coffee in time to keep from spilling the hot contents on her boss.

Regina was warm and muscular where they touched, her ass firm as it bumped up against Emma's front.

Feeling like her loins had caught fire, Emma jumped back. "I'm so sorry, Reg-Dr. Mills. I didn't—"

"Miss Swan," the principal cut her off, "you should get to your class. I'm afraid I can't accompany you to the teacher's lounge after all. This meeting with my-with the Board is of the utmost importance. I should stay and prepare."

"I-I—" She still hadn't properly formulated a response—or a question to the other woman's changed demeanor—by the time the glass door that led into the reception area had opened and closed.

Alone, Emma blinked. "It's just coffee, Regina, not a marriage proposal. Geez."

But then why did her heart feel like someone had poked it with a needle and released all the helium?

Deflated, Emma went to her classroom, her hands still clutching the mug painted with one of Regina's rare smiles.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm uploading one more chapter tonight because I don't want to leave readers hanging at the point where they were! Here, WE FINALLY GET TO SOME GOOD STUFF.**

 **If anyone wants to edit/beta read this work, let me know-because on that note, I apologize for any typos as I'm not really taking the time to edit. I plan to write first, polish later. I hope that's okay with everyone. :)**

 **XX**

Chapter Four:

At the end of Emma's first week, Henry approached her desk after class, the raccoon grin on his face.

"What's up?" she asked him, unable to keep from smiling back.

"Do you have any snacks?"

"Snacks?" she chuckled. "Kid, I can't even remember to pack my own lunch. I've been mooching off Miss Lucas for the past five days."

His face fell. "Mom just packed me an apple. I thought you might have some chips."

"Ugh, healthy food," she sympathized. "I won't touch it if it's not covered in grease or cheese."

"Mom makes us eat _vegan_ at home _,"_ he complained, the word squeezing out of his mouth like he'd sucked something sour.

"I'll tell you what, I'll remember to bring us both some snacks on Monday," Emma told him. "For now, you've got to get moving, or you'll be late."

The 7th graders who'd taken their seats in the classroom leaned forward, salivating when she mentioned food.

"You're bringing snacks, Miss Swan?" one of them asked. "Can we get some, too?"

"Yeah," another chimed in. "It's not fair if you bring some for him, but not the rest of us."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "I guess this means I'm making a trip to the grocery store sooner than I'd planned. Fine. But you all better remember this when you want to groan about your grades."

As always, food had a magical effect on students, granting them angelic, if temporary, halos.

"We will, Miss Swan. We promise," they chanted. "We'll work our hardest."

By lunch period, she gave herself a pat on the back. The students loved her. They always did. Maybe it was her own childlike spirit that attracted them to her. Maybe it was her love of performance. In any case, she couldn't wait for Dr. Mills to make an appearance in one of her classes. The woman would probably faint when she saw the extent of Emma's teaching prowess.

Smirking, she entered the deserted teacher's lounge, going straight for the heavenly coffeepot still gurgling away as it churned out a fresh brew. She hadn't seen Regina since Tuesday, she realized, and she was doing surprisingly well, considering her desperate crush.

She sprinkled cinnamon in her mug. Yes, she was crushing hard, and she didn't like it.

Well, actually she did…

But the distance between them since that incident in the hallway was good, she told herself. It helped her keep her life the way it had been since she returned to Storybrooke—no commitments, no emotions, no broken hearts, no more funerals.

 _Lone wolf is the only way to be._

Red sashayed into the teacher's lounge as Emma took a seat at what had become their usual table.

"What'cha bring for me to eat today?" Emma asked.

"Granny's grilled cheese. Guaranteed to be the very best you'll ever have." Red threw two sandwiches wrapped in tinfoil in front of the blonde.

Emma moaned. "Grilled cheese is my favorite, _and_ it's Friday. This might be the best day ever."

"Speaking of Friday." Red waggled her eyebrows. "You should come to Granny's tonight. A bunch of us are eating there, then going into Portland for drinks. What'd ya say?"

"I say hell yes." She had to restrain herself to keep from pumping her fist in the air.

"Great." Red's eyes dropped from Emma's face. She traced a finger over the tinfoil she'd pulled off her sandwich. "I, uh, could drive us if you'd like."

"I'll buy you a drink then. Non-alcoholic, though."

The wolfish smile appeared back on Red's cheeks. "I can't wait to get you drunk, Swan."

"What, so you can take advantage of me?" Emma joked.

To her surprise, Red's eyes darkened. "Yeah, something like that."

Emma's heart was still beating fast from their encounter as she returned to her classroom. She shuffled paperwork around on her desk to prepare for last period, thinking about Regina—as if her boss had made that last comment, instead of Red, her pupils widening with desire as she spoke. She drooled at the thought of the brunette's plump lips and husky voice spilling forth erotic suggestions. Her head spun as all the blood rushed to her groin.

She groaned. How was she ever going to make it through the rest of the day, much less the rest of the semester if these inappropriate thoughts kept cropping up?

Somehow she managed teach, then send her grumbling 9th graders off for the weekend, a collection of Shakespeare's sonnets tucked in their book bags. She packed up her things, marveling at how neat her briefcase looked for once. Then she exited the school.

 _Freedom,_ she thought as a cool Maine breeze kissed her cheeks. _And a paycheck._

Her Bug turned over without complaints, and she took the long route out of the parking lot as she saw the buses still lined up around the front.

The back way took her past the stables and the miles of trails that hid beneath the pine trees. Beyond those sprawled the stucco-colored track, which surrounded the soccer field. Further on, she saw tennis courts. She squinted when she saw a familiar bedhead of brown hair playing.

 _Henry._

She slowed down and watched him. For a kid who hated tennis, he swung his bat or racket—whatever it was called—quite well. The neon yellow ball whizzed back and forth over the net between him and his opponent.

 _Kid's got talent. Not only at writing, but this…_

A car beeped behind her. Emma turned around to glare at the offender. When she saw the shining Mercedes symbol molded into the sexy black car, she gulped.

 _Regina._

"Are you going to sit there all day, Miss Swan, or do you plan on moving sometime this century?"

 _Definitely Regina._

That tone. That sass. Emma half-wanted to turn off the engine, so the principal would be forced to dish out more delicious punishment.

 _There's something seriously wrong with me that I like this woman's abuse so much._

"I was watching Henry," she called back.

Regina leaned out the window, a smile curving over her red lips. She tilted down her designer sunglasses to peer at Emma. "He's quite talented, isn't he?"

"Definitely," the blonde agreed.

"Why don't you come watch him with me?" Regina suggested.

Stunned, she failed to form a response.

"Though if you have somewhere to be—"

"Nowhere," Emma interrupted, ignoring the thought of Red and the plans they'd made.

"There's a lot to the left if you drive round the bend," Regina said. "You can park there."

Needing zero further encouragement, Emma zoomed forward as fast as her little Bug would allow.

Her hands tightened on her steering wheel as she made the turn into the lot. The damn voice in the back of her head wouldn't shut up.

 _You were doing so well, not seeing her. Now you're about to pass out at the thought of sitting next to her. And what about Red…_

She parked, closing the door firmly on her thoughts, and watched Regina exit her vehicle. First, one long tanned leg appeared, followed by the second, both tipped in heels as high as Mount Everest. The principal's body moved with the curves of her sexy car as she stood. She flicked back the strands of brunette hair that tangled in her lipstick. Emma longed to make that lipstick a little messier. A lot messier.

"Ready?" Regina asked.

"Oh," Emma murmured, "very."

The older woman tilted her head at Emma's tone, but shrugged it off and gestured for the blonde to follow her.

She trailed a step or two behind, so she could watch Regina's ass sway in the clinging black dress that she wore. Damn, she wanted to be that dress, pressed tight against the other woman's perfect curves, melded against her breasts and buttocks. Dipping between her legs...

"How was your first week here, Miss Swan?" Regina asked as they walked.

 _Dr. Ice Queen Mills is actually making small talk with me?_ She grinned. "Fine. Great."

"I'm glad to hear it. You know," the brunette glanced back, "Henry hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Oh really?"

"Yes. In fact, he stopped by at lunch and told me you agreed with him that apples are not the best choice of snack foods."

"Uh, he said that?"

"Do you have something against apples, Miss Swan?" As if by magic, a Red Delicious appeared in Regina's right hand.

"N-not at all."

The fruit moved closer to the principal's lips. "I hope not. They're my favorite fruit."

Regina's mouth met the red flesh. She bit in, closing her eyes. A little noise of pleasure rose from her throat. Emma stopped moving, unable to do anything but take in the sight of the principal's devotion to the luckiest damn piece of produce on the planet.

Regina's cheeks were red, her eyes hooded as she swallowed. "I just love the juice. I can't think of anything I'd rather taste."

"I can," Emma said bluntly.

"Oh?"

She was moving now, having an out-of-body experience and closing the distance between the brunette and herself. She stopped inches from the other woman's figure, close enough to feel the heat, close enough to lose herself in Regina's spicy perfume.

"What would you rather taste, Miss Swan?" Regina whispered. Her eyes were still dark, the pupils blown wide, just like in Emma's earlier fantasy.

God, she wanted to crush her boss against her body and lick up _all_ her juices.

Instead she shrugged and said, "Grilled cheese."

She reached up and wiped the stray lipstick from the corner of Regina's mouth with her thumb.

"And please, call me Emma."


	5. Chapter 5

**I woke up to REVIEWS this morning! Absolutely nothing could have started my day off better! I don't have classes or work on Thursdays (though I do have to work on a case brief later), but I'm devoting as much of my day to continuing the story, since people are so excited about it. To those of you who have favorited, followed, and reviewed, I can't wait to read your work as well! This chapter gets spicy, lovelies. But it's got NOTHING on what's still to come...**

 **XX**

Chapter Five:

They sat close on the bleachers. The _thwack_ of the tennis ball between rackets—Regina had educated her on the proper term—interrupted their conversation every so often. Emma kept half her gaze on Henry's sweaty form and half on Regina's hypnotizing scarlet mouth.

"…so 'love,' Miss Swan, doesn't actually imply…" The principal gestured, searching for a word to fill in her sentence.

"Feelings," Emma finished.

"Right, feelings. In tennis, love means a score of nil."

"How long did you play tennis again?" she asked.

"Practically from the time I could walk clear through college." Regina laughed, the sound somehow both as pure as clear water and hot as hellfire. "My father, Henry, played before me. It's tradition, I suppose you could say."

"Your father's named Henry, too?"

"Yes." The principal winked. "See? We keep things in the family."

"I guess so." Emma turned her gaze back to Henry Junior who was dribbling his tennis ball with unwavering concentration. He still hadn't noticed her presence. She itched to call out a hello.

"So is tradition the reason you don't want him working on the literary magazine?"

Beside her, Regina's body stiffened. "Miss Swan, I just don't want him to engage his time in a pointless pursuit. He is clearly skilled at tennis. This sport can pay for his college education, can help him make connections, the same way it did for my father and me. If he chooses to go to the same university we did and comes to work here, he will have continued the Mills legacy in both academics and tennis."

"So you think writing is pointless, but you oversaw the literary magazine before I came along?" Emma asked. "I don't understand your logic."

"No one else has ever shown interest in the literary magazine before you." Regina's voice dropped dangerously low. "No one _cared_. If I hadn't taken _pity_ on those students, the magazine would not have survived its inaugural year."

Emma thought back to the room full of students who worked on _Once_ —thought of Ariel and her passion for literary truth, of Tom's obsession with Regina's missing presence, and most of all, she thought of Henry's brilliant imagination.

"If that's the way you feel about it, then I'm glad I replaced you. Those kids have passion. They look up to you, Regina. But you return their passion with _pity_. Is that what educators do these days?"

A foot of space appeared on the bleachers between them. The principal crossed her legs, tilting even further away.

"You are a substitute teacher, Miss Swan. My doctorate is in Curriculum and Education. Your degree is not even in teaching. Do _not_ speak to me about what it means to be an educator."

Her voice froze Emma's core, but she refused to back down, not when it came to her students. She opened her mouth to retort when Henry caught sight of her.

"Miss Swan," he yelled, waving wildly. "Come down here."

She swallowed her frustration, waved back to him, then felt her jacket pocket for her phone and keys. "It's getting late. I should be going. Have a nice night, _Dr_. Mills."

She hurried down the bleachers to where Henry stood. "Hey, kid."

"What are you doing here?" he asked her, out of breath.

"I caught your mad skills from my car," she told him. "I had to come check them out."

"What are you doing here with my mom?" he pressed.

She shrugged. "Just a coincidence, kid. We both work here, remember?"

"Yeah." He scratched his head with his racket. "Are you gonna have dinner with us? Maybe you can convince Mom to go out for burgers, instead of having her lentil stew."

Emma laughed at his scrunched up face. "Man, that sounds awful. But I think you're on your own with that one."

"Hey, Mom," Henry said, jumping past her. "Can Miss Swan come to dinner with us? We can have real burgers, and you can have a veggie burger."

Emma turned around. At the sight of Regina's perfect face so close to her own once more, her blood went hot from anger and desire.

"Sorry, Henry," she said before the principal could speak. "I wish I could, but I already have plans."

She tousled his hair, trying to ignore his disappointed expression. "Some other time, okay?"

Without waiting for his response, she hurried away from the cutest mother and son pair she'd ever seen. Inside her Bug, she banged out all her irritation on the steering wheel. She'd pulled out of the lot when her phone buzzed. She stared down at the incoming text from a number she didn't recognize.

 _You can be angry with me, Miss Swan,_ it read, _but please never take out your anger on my son. If it would have made him happy to have dinner with you, then I wish you would've stayed. After all, you told me you didn't have plans. But if you truly are busy, then I wish you a safe and fun night._

Guilt crushed Emma's chest. She tossed the phone away.

"How dare she?" she snapped as hot tears pricked her eyes. "How dare she insult me, then pull this shit? I would never want to hurt Henry.

"Have a safe and fun night, Emma," she mimicked. "Like Regina's my damn mother or something."

As she drove out of the school gate, she contemplated never coming back. Once the childish thought was out of her head, she grabbed her phone and found the number Red entered in two days past. She pressed dial and listened to the ring.

"Swan," Red exclaimed when she picked up. "Where the hell are you? I've been at Granny's for a half hour."

"I'm so sorry," she replied, forcing back her stupid tears. "I got held up at work. Do you want to grab some food to go and come over to my place? I still need to change."

"Can do. What's your address?"

Emma relayed her information to her new friend, promising to see her soon.

 _I just need to get good and drunk,_ she thought as she hung up.

Liquid fire would erase Regina from her mind, if only for awhile. She couldn't think of anything she needed more right at that moment.

Emma beat Red to the apartment. She left the front door unlocked, shooting the other woman a text to come on in when she arrived. In her bedroom, she stripped down to her underwear and swiped through her closet.

"Where the hell is that little black number?" she muttered, sticking her face further in the mess of clothes, butt wiggling.

"Now that is a sight I would kill to come home to every night," a voice behind her said.

Emma jolted in surprise, hitting her head on the side of the closet.

"Damn it, Red," she said as she whirled around. "You almost scared me to death."

"If you died, I'd be one sad queer," her friend replied, sprawling out on Emma's queen bed, instantly at home. "Because I was planning on dancing with you till the wee hours of the morning."

"That was my plan, too," Emma muttered, "but I can't find the dress I'm looking for."

"I'm trying to imagine you in a dress," Red said, "though I think I like this view better."

She flushed, remembering she wore only mismatched bra and panties…and polka-dotted socks. "Cool it, lady's man, and help me find this thing. I'm ready to start drinking."

Red joined her at the closet and in a split second pulled forth the exact dress Emma spent 15 minutes searching for.

"How did you do that?" she marveled, sliding into the clingy fabric.

"It's my secret talent." Red took a step back, examined her, and wolf-whistled. "Swan, you are _hot_."

Emma moved over to the mirror that hung on the back of her bedroom door. She turned sideways, admiring her lean legs and the way the dress accented her chest.

"Why yes I am. Now what did you bring me to eat?"

"Always thinking with your stomach," Red chided as she led Emma to a veritable feast of lasagna, French green beans, mashed potatoes, and a carton of Cinnamon Cocoa ice cream that she'd set out on the kitchen table.

Emma swooped up the ice cream and held the freezing container close. "You're the best. How did you know this was my favorite?"

"I've seen you dump cinnamon on everything you've eaten, aside from those grilled cheese sandwiches I brought," Red replied. "Besides, you seemed upset when you called me. Why did you have to stay late at school anyway?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she said as she piled a plate high.

"Ah, that's code for the ice queen strikes again, isn't it?"

Emma chomped on a mouthful of green beans to avoid answering.

"Hey, Swan, you don't have a crush on her, do you?"

"Don't be stupid," Emma muttered. "Hey, it's getting late. Maybe we take this stuff to go and head to Portland. It'll take at least an hour to get there."

Ruby shrugged. "Honestly, I ate while I was waiting on you at Granny's. You can keep these leftovers."

A bit of her heart broke as she appreciated the kind gesture. She couldn't remember the last time someone had done something like this for her. "You really are the best, Red, you know that? I'm so thankful you came into my life."

Her friend waved away the compliment as Emma inhaled the rest of the food on her plate.

"Okay, let me grab my jacket and heels. Then we can go."

Fifteen minutes later, she sat in Red's truck, the two of them singing off-key to Posner's latest hit. Emma rolled down her window as they drove, letting the wind splash her cheeks and her hair whip against her face. She was losing herself, losing the week's tension as the songs played. Once, writing music brought this kind of peace and clarity, but those days were long gone. Now, she appreciated the talent of others, and for the time being, that was enough.

When they finally arrived at Oasis, she could feel the beat under her high heels.

"Seems like we got here just in time to dance," Red said, grinning wolfishly. She grabbed Emma's waiting hand and pulled her inside.

Wall-to-wall gyrating bodies packed the multi-level club. Spinning disco balls lit up the plastic palm trees that the two women passed on their way to the bar.

"What'll you have?" Red shouted over the noise.

"Shots of anything," Emma shouted back. "You pick."

Red leaned past her to place the order. The two clinked the tiny glasses together when the bartender passed them their drinks. Emma knocked hers back in one violent pull. The liquor left a burn in her throat, and she shook her head, laughing.

"Another?" Red asked. "I'm buying tonight."

Emma nodded, accepted the second and third shot, powering them down her waiting throat. Already the room felt warmer, the bodies around her friendlier. She grinned at Red. "You ready to dance yet?"

Her friend started to reply when her stare landed on something over Emma's shoulder. "Hey, everybody else is here, too. They got a table. Come on."

She took Emma's hand once more and led the blonde over to the table full of Storybrooke teachers. As Emma's gaze slid over her new coworkers, including Tink, she couldn't help but grin. What would their students think if they knew their stuffy, uptight, private school faculty partied hard when classes ended?

The grin froze on her face as she noted the last member in attendance.

Regina Mills.

The principal wore a blood red dress that fit her body like a second skin. Emma's eyes roved over her boss's beckoning cleavage, then slid back up to her pouty lips.

Regina stared back, hard. The corner of her pink tongue flicked out of her mouth to lap up the dab of red wine that threatened to drip onto her chin. Desire, unbridled by the shots she'd thrown back, erupted in Emma's body.

Red, she realized vaguely, was tugging at her hand. It took all her willpower to look away from the principal.

"There's only one empty seat next to Mary Margaret," Red was saying. "You'll have to sit next to Regina. Is that all right, or should I—"

"It's fine," Emma said, perhaps too quickly. "I mean, I have to figure out how to work with her at some point, don't I?"

"This is fun, not work," Red reminded her. She gave Emma's hand a squeeze. "Besides, drunk Regina can be kind of cool."

With a wink, she shoved Emma in the direction of the principal.

Emma sat beside the brunette without waiting for permission. She could feel Regina's hot gaze on her body, taking in the outfit she wore.

"Well, Miss Swan," the older woman slurred, "I do believe this is the first time I've seen you in a dress."

Emma started to reply when David Nolan waved to get her attention.

"This is my wife, Mary Margaret," he shouted over the music from across the table.

"It's a pleasure," Emma said, extending a hand to the woman with a pixie cut who had a glass of orange juice in front of her. "It's nice you can both have a night out."

"Thanks," Mary Margaret gushed. "And thank you so much for taking over my class this semester."

She felt Regina's hand on her knee. On. Her. Knee. She lost all pretense of caring about what happened on the other side of the table and returned her full attention to her boss.

"Do you dance?" Regina asked, leaning into the blonde's body to be heard over the music.

"Of course." She would have been a fool to say no.

"Then let's dance. The rest of them are boring me." Regina swallowed the last of her red wine and pushed Emma out of the booth.

When the blonde caught Red's questioning eye, she shrugged, shouting. "Uh, we'll be back later."

A piece of her felt bad about leaving behind the friend who'd brought her here, the friend who'd paid for her drinks, but the rest of her followed Regina deep into the sea of bodies.

The lights fell as they stood facing one another in the middle of the floor. The beat shifted, slowed, and Emma wiped her palms on her dress.

 _I can't help whatever happens next,_ she told herself. And, good god, did she have some quick and desperate fantasies about how Regina would move in that dress.

But nothing could have prepared her for the real thing.

The brunette threw back her head and _danced_. Her body shifted like she had no bones, like she was liquid that could engulf and drown Emma's prone form. Regina reached out and placed her hands on Emma's shoulders.

"Move," she commanded as her hips rolled to the beat.

Without speaking, she took the older woman's wrists in her hands and pulled her close. Regina laughed as their bodies bumped against one another, separated, then melded back together. Emma spun the other woman and yanked her ass up against her hips.

Regina's eyes snapped up to her face, and Emma loosened her grip. Had it been too much too fast?

Instead, the brunette leaned so close that the warmth of her breath and the sweet scent of the wine she'd drunk tickled Emma's nose. "I take it you aren't still mad at me, Miss Swan."

Emma's nipples were so hard against the fabric of her dress, she wondered if the principal could feel them. Her voice wouldn't work in response. The only thoughts in her mind, the only sensations were of the other woman's curves, her wicked heat, the undulations of her muscular ass under that short blood red dress as she ground up against Emma's core.

Regina turned and wrapped her arms around the blonde's neck. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"Don't be stupid," Emma growled, fighting to keep her mouth to herself when all she wanted to do was suck on the brunette's slender throat. "This is perfectly appropriate behavior between a boss and her employee."

Regina smiled wide, flashing her perfect white teeth. "You're a cheeky Swan, aren't you?"

"What can I say? You bring out the best in me."

The music slowed further, leaving the two women swaying, locked in one another's arms. Her hands roamed Regina's body, nestling in the small of her back like they belonged. Emma watched Regina's eyelids flutter shut as she squeezed the bare flesh she found.

"Henry's at Tom's," the principal whispered.

"Why are you telling me that?"

 _Because you're taking me to bed?_ She could only hope for that miracle.

"Because I don't want you to think I'm a bad mother."

"What?" She gave the smaller woman a tiny shake. "Why the hell would I ever think that?"

Regina clung to her so tight, their breasts and thighs rubbed deliciously against one another. "Because I'm not there with him tonight. Because I won't let him…"

She trailed off, but Emma could fill in the gap.

 _You won't let him join the literary magazine._

"You don't know anything about my family or why we do the things we do, Miss Swan," Regina said softly. "You don't know anything about me."

Their lips drew closer. Regina's fingers tangled in her hair, pulling her head down until they were a centimeter apart. Emma's body was on fire everywhere the brunette touched her. She needed the other woman's tongue to lave away her nearly painful arousal.

"I'm not the type who stays around long enough to get to know anyone," Emma rumbled.

As soon as the words spilled out of her mouth, she wanted to take them back. She _did_ want to know this woman and her family. Desperately. She didn't want to be a lone wolf if it meant this beautiful brunette in her bed.

"Good," Regina said, as her eyelids fluttered shut. "Honestly, I can't wait until the semester is over, and you're gone from my school."

"Why?" Emma asked, unable to stop the hurt that came from those words.

When Regina's hooded gaze found hers again, raw want ate away at her bourbon stare. The drunken, desirous look in her eyes made Emma wetter than she could ever remember being in her life.

"Because, Miss Swan," she drawled, "ever since you stumbled into my office, the only thing on my mind has been fucking you."


	6. Chapter 6

**A wild smut appeared! I hope you enjoy this long-awaited chapter. But it's just a taste of what's to come. I ended up being busier today than I anticipated, so that's why I'm updating so late. More chapters will be up in the next few days. Until then, thank you for the reviews, favs, and follows. Keep them coming! They add wings to my typing fingers.**

 ***Also, I feel like I massively suck at writing sex scenes, so please offer encouragement!*  
**

 **XX**

Chapter Six:

Regina's tongue left the cove of her painted mouth and swirled over Emma's lower lip. The blonde whimpered as electricity shot straight to her core. Regina's lips covered hers with their wet heat, swallowing her moans, pulling out her breath.

Emma kissed back, hard, for what seemed like an eternity. She cupped Regina's chin with one hand, the other slipping inside the side of the fabric of that red dress. As Emma's fingers explored her silky skin, the older woman made a noise deep in her throat.

She came undone at the sound. Her short nails bit into Regina's flesh, and she crushed her boss against her body. Unwilling to be dominated, the brunette's leg slid between her own. Emma went still as Regina's thigh rose higher. She could feel the heat from the principal's core on her clit. Gasping, she sank down, grinding shamelessly to relieve the building pressure. Regina's thigh grew wet with her desire.

"R-Regina," she whimpered. "I-I'm—"

She was going to come, Emma thought wildly. She was going to come in the middle of the Oasis dance floor.

Regina smirked against her mouth.

The other woman pulled out of the kiss and drew her leg back to her own body.

"W-what?" Emma stammered.

Her clit and nipples stood at full attention under her clothes, begging for Regina's paint-smeared lips to close over them. For her tongue to make long, slow licks until—until…

"I just wanted to make sure you felt the same way about me as I do you, dear," Regina said.

"Fuck," Emma groaned. "You could have just asked."

"But where's the fun in that?" the principal replied.

Grudgingly Emma started to agree, started to suggest they continue their party in a more private location. But a flash of activity behind her caught her eye.

She glanced up and saw Red standing a few feet away. Her friend's gaze swam over Emma's mussed hair, her flushed cheeks, her lipstick covered mouth.

"Shit," Emma muttered, her desire leaking away.

The hurt on Red's face might as well as been as loud as a fire alarm.

"What's wrong?" Regina asked.

Reluctantly, Emma released the woman who fit in her arms like the missing half of a locket. "We got caught."

At that moment, the sound system went dead, and the overhead lights flared up inside the club.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's now 2 am," the DJ said. "Please get ready to make your way to the front exit. Don't forget your complimentary bottle of water on your way out. Let our staff know if you need a taxi."

"Red," Emma called as her friend turned to leave.

The throng of bodies heaved as one toward the exit. She reached for Regina's hand but lost it in the crowd. She was swept along to the door where she grabbed the water a bouncer shoved at her and hurried in the direction of Red's truck.

"Red, wait, please."

She touched the other woman's shoulder, and her friend whirled around to face her.

"What the fuck was that, Emma? You said you didn't have feelings for her." Red's eyes pleaded for some kind of explanation.

Emma took a deep breath. "I-I'm sorry. I lied. I do."

"She's drunk, Emma, and she's your boss."

"I know." Her stomach felt like someone dropped stones inside of it. "I didn't want to tell you. I didn't even want to admit it to myself."

But now Regina's kiss was seared forever on her lips.

"You'd better go clean up the mess you made." Red pointed over Emma's shoulder.

She turned around and saw Regina fumbling with her keys next to her Mercedes. "Shit, she doesn't think she can drive, does she?"

"Just go," Red said flatly. "Get her home safe."

She nodded, gaze begging her friend to forgive her as she backed away.

"Swan," Red called after her, "you owe me for those drinks."

The brunette flashed Emma a half-smile before disappearing into her truck.

As Red drove away, she focused her attention on the drunk and disheveled object of her desire. She rolled her eyes.

 _She's going to be a handful._

Because when, in the short week she'd known the woman, had she not been?

"Regina." She plucked the keys from the principal before they fell from her manicured fingers. "Go to the passenger's seat. I'm driving."

"You are _not_ driving my Benz, Miss Swan," the other woman's voice sounded strikingly clear for how intoxicated she seemed.

"Then I guess we're doing this the hard way."

She lifted the smaller woman off the ground and tossed her over one shoulder.

"Miss Swan, put me down," Regina shrieked, smacking at Emma's behind.

"That's right," she chuckled. "Spank me."

The principal sputtered with a surprised laugh. "As attractive as that sounds, seriously, put me down. Everyone from here to the moon can see my thong."

"You're wearing a thong?" She rounded the car and returned Regina safely to the earth. "That's…"

She was drooling again, having her millionth split second fantasy about this woman.

Regina adjusted her dress, huffing. "Yes. Now, can we please go? I feel fully humiliated."

She did look embarrassed, Emma noted, and cute and sexy and tipsy. On impulse, she leaned forward and kissed the brunette. Regina's lips quivered against hers. The woman pulled her close for a moment before releasing her.

"Please, I want to go home."

"Your wish is my command."

She shut the door behind Regina before settling into the nicest car she'd ever driven. The Mercedes' seat fit like a glove around her. The faux wood panel set into the steering wheel felt as smooth as the brunette's skin under her hands.

"Holy shit," she breathed. "I could get used to this."

She popped the cap off her water bottle, downed half, then handed the rest to Regina. "You look like you could use this."

The other woman accepted it with a wrinkle of her nose. "The only person I drink after is Henry."

"Then just pretend I'm him."

Regina let out a nervous laugh. "I hardly think I can do that, Miss Swan."

"No." Her mind wandered back to the principal's long legs and how one had found a home between her thighs. "I guess not."

She started the engine, listening to the car's powerful vibrations beneath her. "Since you've gotten to know me on a more…intimate…level, can you call me Emma already? Miss Swan makes me feel like I'm in trouble."

"Oh, but Miss Swan," Regina purred, one hand resting on Emma's knee. "Haven't you realized it by now? You _are_ in trouble. We both are."

She supposed they were. That hand on her knee had started this whole mess in the first place. But her skin tingled beneath the principal's touch, warming, softening, bringing back the heady glow of desire. When the brunette withdrew her hand, she almost whimpered with disappointment.

"So what are we doing here? What are we?" She glanced at Regina who curled up in her seat as they drove. "I mean, I didn't even know you were a lesbian."

"I'm not a lesbian."

"Uh." She pondered the skillful pink tongue in her mouth. "I beg to differ."

"I'm not a lesbian, and we're not anything. After tonight, you're my temporary employee again, and I'm your boss. We will sort out the details of me fucking you once you leave Storybrooke."

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Oh, so that's how it's going to be? We start school on Monday and pretend none of this happened?"

"Yes. But you'll know how I feel about you."

"I know you want to play with me. I know that you seem to think you can put me on a shelf until after winter break and that I'll still want you."

"Won't you?" Regina asked.

"Probably," she admitted, "but—"

"Then it's settled."

"It's not settled. People aren't toys. Have you taken into account what I might want?" As the other woman gazed blankly at her, realization dawned on Emma. "Oh my god. You're a spoiled rich kid."

The principal's eyes narrowed, and her cheeks darkened. "How dare you?"

"Whoops," Emma snickered, "hit a nerve."

"Do not presume to know anything about my life, Miss Swan."

"Don't worry, Regina, I'll teach you the hook-up culture of us normal folk."

"It's _Dr. Mills._ "

"Lesson one," Emma said, "you're Regina when we're alone. Get used to it."

In response, the brunette scoffed and curled up into an even tighter ball on her seat. They drove along in the empty highway for several minutes in silence. Emma marveled at the sensation a car that didn't threaten to break down underneath of her every two seconds.

She sent a silent apology to her Bug for cheating with the Benz. _I promise I still love you._

"So," she said at last, "what's your address?"

She received a weak snore in response. Emma glanced over. The brunette had tucked her chin to her knees, and her eyelids fluttered in sleep. She smiled and took the exit for her apartment.

When Emma opened the passenger side door and unbuckled Regina's seat belt, the older woman hardly stirred. Emma lugged her out of the car, her boss's dead weight much harder to maneuver than her flailing form.

"Come on," she muttered. "Help me out a little."

She responded by wrapping her legs and arms tight around Emma's body.

"That's better."

She tried her best to ignore the muscular grip of Regina's thighs and the fact that the brunette's sex pressed up against her stomach, only a pesky thong and her own black dress separating their flesh.

 _Good thoughts. Clean thoughts. Good thoughts. Clean thoughts._

She carried Regina into her bedroom and lowered her onto the comforter. Without opening her eyes, the brunette crawled to the top of the bed and snagged one of Emma's pillows. She watched the other woman go soft with slumber, her own heart pounding painfully in her chest. She wanted nothing more than to lie down beside her, pull her close, and drift off to sleep.

Instead, she opened the windows a crack to let in the fresh, cool breeze. She stripped down and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of underwear that wasn't soaked in her desire. In the bathroom, while she brushed her teeth, she located a bottle of aspirin. She took two capsules and placed another two on the bedside table next to Regina's head, along with a glass of water.

Then she lay down on top of her blankets and settled in beside the brunette. She stared at Regina's face, saw how gentle and childlike it was in sleep. She saw so much of Henry in the principal's features, so much more than she'd noticed before because Henry always smiled and his mother did so rarely.

She closed her eyes, trying to remember the last time she'd let a woman spend the night next to her.

 _Not since Kathryn,_ she realized, and her chest contracted.

She expected sleep to be hard to come by as thousands of thoughts and emotions played tag inside of her. However, when Regina reached out and wrapped one warm arm around her body, she surrendered to whatever would come.

 _She stood in a forest, body clad in heavy white damask. A bone corset restricted her breath. As the birds went silent at the dark figure approaching, she struggled to run. Her legs pumped uselessly in the mud of her skirts. The figure burst from the trees. Regina Mills wore a dress the color of the blood of her enemies._

 _"I've found you, Savior," the woman said, a smile on her scarlet lips that did not reach her icy eyes. "Did you really think you could escape the Evil Queen?"_

Emma jolted out of her dream with a gasp. She took a minute to right herself. She lay in bed. Daylight spilled through the windows she left open. The space beside her was cold and empty. She rolled over, catching a whiff of Regina's apple scent.

The night rushed back—her boss's skillful mouth taking her own, the sounds the older woman made when Emma's nails carved trails in her skin. Heat shot straight to her core. She groaned, yanking the pillow Regina used against her frame.

Her gaze found a scrap of paper beside the empty water glass that sat on the bedside table. She grabbed it and read the cursive script.

 _Thanks for last night. I can only hope you had as much fun as I did. –Regina_

Emma grinned when she saw that the principal signed the note with her first name.

"Point for Swan," she said.

She swung out of bed, showered, and plugged in her dying phone. She swiped through her texts to find where Regina messaged her.

 _I did have fun,_ she sent.

Almost at once, the phone buzzed. Emma's heart jumped in her chest.

 _Sorry I overreacted last night. I was kinda drunk. You have the right to like whoever you like._

Red.

The fast pace of her heart slowed in disappointment, but that wasn't fair to her friend.

 _No prob,_ she typed. _I was tipsy, too. Glad you made it home safe. Let me know if you want to get together and grade today._

Red sent back an affirmative to meet that afternoon.

Emma busied herself with breakfast and a bit of cleaning. She managed to avoid her phone until she grabbed it to leave for Granny's. To her displeasure, no new messages from Regina awaited her.

The rest of the passed just as silently. She forced herself not to text anything else to her boss. Maybe the older woman had meant what she said—that nothing could happen between them as long as she served as Mary Margaret's substitute.

On Sunday, Emma finished reviewing Monday's lesson plan, adding in a couple extra points that she wanted to cover, including introducing her 6th grade class to the second book in the Chronicles of Narnia.

 _Henry will appreciate that,_ she thought, _since he likes writing fantasy so much._

"Henry," she exclaimed as she remembered her promise. "Snacks."

At her previous trip to the grocery store, she'd completely forgotten she told her students she would bring food. Determined not to disappoint them, she grabbed her car keys and drove to the nearest Stop'n Shop.

She was holding several grab boxes stuffed with various chip flavors when a familiar raccoon grin appeared in front of her.

"Henry," she said, "where did you come from?"

"Mom and I are shopping," he told her.

Emma's heart rate spiked. "Where's your mom now?"

At her words, Regina rounded the aisle, pushing a grocery cart that brimmed with fresh vegetables.

The surprise on her face mirrored Emma's as the two of them stared at one another.

"Miss Swan," Regina said at last.

She nodded her head in hello because her words froze in her throat.

"Are those chips all for you?" the principal asked, one dark brow raised. "How _do_ you manage to stay so thin?"

"They're for me," Henry announced.

"For all my students," Emma clarified.

Regina lifted a Red Delicious from her cart, reminding Emma of how sinfully that woman could eat. Her face flared as the principal taunted her.

"I thought we agreed there was no better juice than apple juice."

"If that's the best you've ever had, then you're in for a surprise," Emma replied.

Regina's cheeks pinkened. Her pupils grew dark. The hunger Emma saw in that gaze made her body tremble.

"Pineapple juice is my favorite," Henry said, oblivious to the sparks that flew between his mother and his teacher. "Miss Swan, want to shop with us?"

Without waiting for Regina's permission, she dumped the boxes of chips in the brunette's cart.

"Why yes, I'd love to," she told him. "Let's find the cookies next."

The glare that Regina leveled at her would once have made her cower. Not anymore. Not after last night.

"Go find your favorite kind, Henry, and I'll get it for you," she told the boy.

He scampered off ahead of them. As they trailed after him, Emma grabbed a handful of Regina's fine ass. When the other woman shivered against her touch, she leaned in close.

"I've made a decision of my own. We are not waiting until winter break to fuck."


	7. Chapter 7

**Last chapter with a sexy and dominating Regina for tonight (COMPLETELY unedited, whoops)! I hope you enjoy! Thank you reviews, favs, and follows! Sleep tight, lovelies. I'll see you in the morning.**

 **XX**

Chapter 7:

On Monday morning, Emma arrived at Storybrooke Prep more than an hour before classes began for September's staff meeting. She yawned her way into the conference room that connected to the principal's reception area. There, the sight of Regina in a powder yellow dress that stopped midway up her tan thighs woke her up at once.

 _She's wearing my favorite color._

A fleeting thought of peeling that dress off Regina's shoulders took over her reasonable brain. She bit her lip to hold back a moan.

The principal didn't look up from her animated conversation with Mr. Nolan as Emma sauntered in. Only when Red called, "Over here, Swan," and indicated the vacant leather seat beside her, did Regina's eyes flick in her direction.

The other woman's tongue ran across her plump lower lip as she watched Emma maneuver the room.

"Morning, Dr. Mills," she said, adjusting the low-cut blouse she'd bought special for today.

"Good Morning, Miss Swan." Regina's gaze dropped to her cleavage. That pink tongue of hers made another swipe over her lips. "Before you sit down, may I speak with you for a moment in private?"

Emma caught Red's wide stare, as well as Mr. Nolan's for that matter, as Regina traversed the space between them, took Emma by the wrist, and pulled her out of the conference room.

Regina shut the door to her office and twisted the lock. The principal crossed the space between them in two long strides. One hand tangled in Emma's hair. The other yanked the blonde close.

"Don't you think your shirt is a little too revealing?"

Emma wriggled in her firm grasp, needing to feel Regina's body against her own trembling form. "Shut up, and kiss me."

Her boss held her in place as Emma tried to lock lips. "Miss Swan, as of right now the entire faculty can ogle your beautiful breasts. Wouldn't you rather keep them just for me?"

"They are just for you," Emma said breathlessly as her boss pushed her back onto the desk.

Her legs fell open as Regina moved in between them. She cursed herself for wearing pants instead of a skirt.

"If you parade around half-naked, I am unsure I will be able to control myself," the principal cautioned. "Please dress more appropriately for work in the future. Otherwise I will have to punish you."

Emma took Regina's chin in her hands. "I don't want you to control yourself. I told you my decision yesterday."

She rocked her hips against the brunette's stomach. Regina let her breath out in a hiss, her eyelids fluttering closed. Emma surged forward and captured the other woman's mouth.

She pushed for more, for Regina to grant her entrance. The principal accepted her tongue, and Emma explored the hot, wet cave as she continued to gyrate against the brunette's solid body. The other woman's hands fell to her ass, fingers tightening almost painfully, encouraging Emma's movement.

"I'm going to dress like this all the time," she whispered, trailing her kisses along Regina's jaw, then down her long throat, "if this is how you punish me."

"Emma," the older woman moaned, "what are you doing to me?"

She nipped at the brunette's neck, then soothed the skin with her tongue. Regina jumped underneath her, moaning louder. Emma's hand traveled up the yellow dress, aching to cup the principal's full breasts.

A knock interrupted them.

"Dr. Mills?" Tink's voice filtered through the door. "It's 7:01. Are you ready to start the meeting?"

They sprang away from one another. As Emma stared at the disheveled principal, she realized she'd completely forgotten where they were.

"We will be out in one moment, Miss Bell," Regina called back, her voice uneven. "Please start reading through the agenda without me."

The principal lowered her voice. "Miss Swan, your mouth is covered in my lipstick."

"Yeah." Emma touched her lips. "Your face is wrecked."

"Fuck," Regina snapped. She went to the other side of her desk and pulled out a compact.

 _Did I just hear Dr. Mills curse?_

She grinned.

 _I like it._

"Don't just stand there," Regina said. "Clean yourself up."

She wiped her face off with the sleeve of her blazer, earning an eye roll from her principal, and adjusted her hair. "Better?"

"Brilliant," Regina deadpanned as she reapplied her lipstick. "What about me?"

Emma stifled a snicker. Her boss's hair looked like a bird's nest, and Emma's love bite had left a red mark on her neck.

"I'll help you." She smoothed the brunette's hair, wet her thumb and discovered the redness came from Regina's lipstick, not her teeth. She made a note to remedy that fact the next time they stole a moment.

"Your hands are very gentle," Regina grumbled.

She saw a rare tenderness in the brunette's gaze before Regina looked away.

"My, we're quite the morning person, aren't we?" she replied. "As for the way yours were gripping my ass, I think you left bruises."

Her boss strutted to the door. "I did tell you I would punish you."

Back in the conference room, Emma locked her palms on the mug Regina had given her the week before. She worried if she let them wander even an inch away from the scalding porcelain, they'd somehow wind up attached to the principal's bosom.

 _Can't have that while we're trying to be all professional._

Regina droned on about the meeting she had the week before with the Board of Trustees. Emma tried her best to focus on the words, but her gaze kept slipping to those plump lips she'd kissed not once but twice now. How many more kisses could she steal today? she wondered.

It would be her goal, she determined, to kiss that vixen at least once more before they parted ways at the end of the day.

"Did you hear me, Miss Swan?" Regina's fingers drummed on the conference table as Emma awoke from her fantasy.

Her cheeks flushed. "Uh, no, could you repeat that?"

"For the third time, I said I will completing more classroom visits to please the Board. As you are the newest teacher here, you are prepared for me to watch your lectures today, yes? I must ensure you're following the syllabus I gave you."

How would she be able to focus on a lesson plan with Regina in the same room? Half the time, she could barely form complete sentences around the woman.

"Sure," she said, clenching the mug in her hands even tighter. "Sounds great."

"As the Board's pressure continues to increase…" Regina went on, and Emma settled back into fantasyland for the remainder of the meeting.

They ended several minutes late. Teachers vacated the conference room, trampling one another to reach their classrooms before the bell.

In the hallway, Red took hold of her elbow. "Can you believe all the crap the Board is forcing on us? It's crazy. Maybe they should try doing our job for a day."

Emma realized she couldn't recall any content of the meeting, though every single one of the curves Regina's dress highlighted were burned into her brain.

"Well, I'm sure they have their reasons," she said.

"Reasons, my ass. Maybe if Dr. Mills had a better relationship with her mother, we wouldn't have to deal with this."

"Her mother?"

Red nodded. "Yeah. Cora Mills is the Head of the Board."

"She is?"

"Try not to act so shocked, Swan. It's on the school's website."

Emma shrugged off Red's words. "I hadn't even looked up directions to this place until the day I got here. I take it Regina and her mom aren't close?"

"Rumor is, they hate each other. So if the Board is coming down hard on us, prepare for your life to become a living hell." Red scanned Emma's body. "In the classroom and in the bedroom."

They reached the stairs as the five-minute warning bell went off.

"We haven't slept together." _Yet._ She frowned. "Say, isn't it a little weird that Regina's the principal if her mom runs the Board? That seems like nepotism."

Red rolled her eyes. "You really have no clue about this place, do you? The Mills own half of Storybrooke. Regina's forefathers founded this place over a hundred years ago. Of course they're keeping it in their filthy rich family. Anyway, I gotta go, Swan. See you at lunch."

Emma climbed the stairs alone, dumbfounded.

 _The Mills family owns this place? They own freaking_ Storybrooke _?_

She'd figured Regina for a rich kid, but this put her in a whole other league. Emma's stomach knotted as she thought about her own upbringing, the dozens of foster homes, the fact she'd never met her real family.

 _Maybe this thing between us isn't such a good idea, after all. How could she ever relate to someone like me? How could I relate to someone like…her?_

She painted a smile on her face as she entered her classroom. "Hello, everybody. How were your weekends?"

Henry's hand shot up first, and as he spoke, her smile became real. She relaxed into the routine of teaching, forgetting Regina would be coming by until the principal arrived.

The brunette settled herself in Emma's desk seat without waiting for permission. "What are you handing out, Miss Swan?"

She glanced down at the dozen copies of _Prince Caspian_ she held. She remembered the warning Regina had given her not to stray from Mary Margaret's lesson plans.

 _Improvise, Swan._

"Optional reading," she said. "It's the second book in the Chronicles of Narnia."

Regina's lips pursed. "We will discuss this after class. Carry on."

By the time Emma finished teaching her last class before lunch, sweat had soaked through her blazer from the unwavering heat of Regina's gaze. She all but collapsed into Henry's seat.

"One of your students left you this," the principal said.

Emma glanced up and chuckled when she saw a Gala apple in Regina's hand. "Seems like they like me. What about you? How do you think I'm doing?"

"Your teaching style is very…casual, Miss Swan. You allow your students many chances for interaction."

"Is that a good thing?" Emma pressed.

"It seems to be. However, we need to discuss your decision to hand out those copies of _Prince Caspian._ "

"I remember reading _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_ in 5th grade," Emma said, "but I didn't even know about the rest of the books until I was in high school. I wanted them to discover more of Narnia earlier."

Regina leaned forward and clasped her hands together. "Are you aware of the Christian agenda within C. S. Lewis's works of fiction?"

"Well yeah, Aslan is God, right?"

"At Storybrooke Prep, we do not value one religion over another. All works of fiction and nonfiction that we use are chosen because they each address a different bias or because they hold no religious bias at all. This is one of our selling points, Miss Swan. Parents pay high rates of tuition for our curriculum."

"I had no idea," Emma muttered.

She couldn't take her eyes off the black cuff that Regina always wore on her wrist. After her conversation with Red, she guessed the large diamonds that rimmed the watch face were real.

"We come from different worlds," she said.

She stood abruptly and moved toward the window for some air.

"Are you all right?" Regina asked, coming up behind her.

She shrugged off the hand that the principal placed on her arm.

"Fine," she replied, "just ready for lunch. Do you mind if I eat alone?"

Regina's brow furrowed, but the other woman didn't press. "Of course. I'll leave you to it."

Emma watched the brunette go. Part of her wanted to call out, to stop the principal from leaving her. But she didn't because the full weight of reality crushed her spirit.

In a few months, she would move on to a new school. And Regina, who came from traditions and money, would stay here and continue to run the school as if Emma never existed. She would be dust between Regina's fingers, a smudge on her thousand dollar shoes.

She knew. She'd fucked rich girls before. And rich girls never left their money for kids from foster homes, not even when they fell in love.


	8. Chapter 8

**The smut train continues...along with actual plot. You all are the best. Please keep reading and reviewing, so I'll be inspired to write all weekend, instead of going out like a normal human! (And can you believe it?! This story has been up for two days and already has over 2500 views! I'm glad people like.) :) :)**

 **Also, I'm considering jumping PoVs to get into Regina's head, even though it's not the literary thing to do...What do you all think?**

 **XX**

Chapter 8:

Regina never returned to Emma's classroom after she'd sent the brunette away.

 _It's for the best,_ she told herself as she flicked on the lights in the closet-like space where the literary magazine met. She picked up the pile of submissions that sat on her desk, impressed at the weight.

"For a club the principal took pity on, they sure are prolific."

She smiled when she saw a new chapter from Henry on top. As she picked it up to read, her students filed in.

"Afternoon, Miss Swan," Tom called.

Ariel marched up to her desk, brandishing a sketch. "I designed the cover for the winter edition of _Once."_

"It's great," Emma said, admiring the mermaid emblazoned with Ariel's signature. "How about we take a vote today to see if everyone agrees that's the best choice."

"Oh they will. It's the clear winner," the girl replied, flipping her fiery hair.

Henry came into the room last, refusing to make eye contact with Emma as he settled beside Tom.

"Henry, can you come up here?" she asked.

"Sure," he mumbled before coming to stand beside her like a man at trial.

"Aren't you supposed to be at tennis?"

"Yeah, but I hate it."

"I know you do." Emma frowned. "But what if your mom shows up again?"

"Do you think she will?"

Her traitorous heart gave an extra special thump at the thought of the principal's possible arrival.

"I'm pretty sure she thinks you're a great teacher now," Henry said.

"What gave you that idea?"

He grinned. "She didn't stop smiling at you through the whole class. She _never_ smiles at teachers."

Her face warmed at his words. "Well—"

"Come on, Miss Swan. I want to be here. All the other kids get to pick what they do after school. I don't want to play tennis every single day."

"Okay, okay," she relented, "but only because I can't wait to see what you've written next."

With a grin, he rejoined his friends. The club fell into their routine with Ariel bossing around the rest of the students as they entered the submissions picked for publication. Emma lost herself in the 3rd chapter of Henry's story, refusing to hand it over when Ariel demanded to edit it.

"You'll get it soon enough," she told the anxious redhead.

She reached the end pages as the door to the room creaked open. The noise startled her out of the battle scene. Wide-eyed she glanced up to see Regina surveying the space. The principal's lips twisted like she'd tasted something bitter when she saw Henry. Her son shrank in his seat, as if that would make him invisible.

"Henry—" the principal said.

"Mom," he interrupted, "it's almost my birthday. Let me stay."

The brunette's face softened. She gave him a small smile, then turned her fury on Emma.

"Miss Swan, can you please remove your boots from that desk and meet me in the hallway?"

Emma dropped her feet off the wooden surface and followed the older woman from the room.

When they stood alone beside a row of lockers, Regina ran her hand through her thick hair. "You are incorrigible, Miss Swan."

Emma shrugged, avoiding eye contact. "He wants to be here. He's having fun. He's learning. It's best-case scenario for a student. And I enjoy having him."

She held up the pages he'd written.

"He's freaking brilliant. I keep dreaming about his story." She met the principal's bourbon gaze, trying to fight the way the other woman made her feel. But there could be no denying the throbbing in her chest…and other places. "You were in the dreams, too."

"Oh?" Regina's pupils dilated. She stepped closer, placing a hand on the locker behind Emma's head. "You've been dreaming about me?"

Her heart pounded. Heat pooled in her belly. The underwear she wore would be ruined by the time she made it home, if it wasn't already from their moment that morning.

"Tell me about the dream," the principal commanded. The fingers on her free hand slipped under the blonde's shirt and fanned out on her trembling flesh. Emma gasped at the contact. The warnings in her mind to cut things off before she grew too attached disintegrated. She wrapped her arms around Regina's neck, smoothing the hair the other woman mussed.

"The dream," Regina rumbled as she yanked on the blonde's pants.

Emma fell into her, gasping. She wrapped her mouth around the brunette's ear. As her tongue dipped inside the pink shell, Regina inhaled sharply.

"Well," she said, nibbling the lobe, "I was wearing a corset."

The principal's grip nearly fractured her hip as the other woman's body responded. She pressed her chest up against Emma's. "I'm listening."

"And you were…" She grinned against Regina's apple scent. "You were the Evil Queen."

"What?" the older woman released her, tilting her head to the side.

"You'll have to read the story to find out more," she replied.

"If my son is portraying me as an Evil Queen, then I guess I will." Regina made a grab for the papers, but the blonde moved them out of her reach.

"You're not mentioned by name, but the Evil Queen has brown hair and lips red like an apple, so I guess my subconscious improvised."

"I hope your subconscious then veered off in a direction unfit for a children's story."

She hooked a finger in the powder yellow neckline of Regina's dress and tugged her nearer. "Actually, it didn't. Maybe you should give me some inspiration."

Needing no further encouragement, the principal claimed Emma's mouth. Their teeth clacked together as Regina shoved Emma up against the lockers. The metal noise reverberated throughout the hallway, and the blonde thought briefly of students emerging to check on them. But when the older woman's fingers disappeared back under her shirt, she lost all ability to care.

Regina's tongue left a burning landscape on Emma's flesh as she trailed it over the blonde's jaw, down her neck, and buried her face in her cleavage. Emma's nipples hardened as her boss's hot mouth nudged aside her skimpy blouse. She tightened her hands in Regina's thick mane, moaning. She squirmed against her, trying to force those plump lips to soothe her desperate, aching flesh. Regina denied her, lifting her face and revealing her dark gaze.

"We'll make this dream of yours into our little fantasy, Miss Swan. I want you to call me Your Majesty when we're in bed," the principal growled.

"My, my," Emma groaned, "I seem to have fully shattered that decision of yours to wait until winter break."

Regina's perfect teeth chewed at her lower lip. "Come to school without any panties on this Thursday."

"Why?"

"Because Henry will be away that evening. He stays with my parents every Thursday." She pressed quick, wet kisses all over the blonde's throat. "I will be all alone in my very large, dark house."

"We can't have that, can we?" Emma managed as her head rolled back.

"I think you will like my bed, Miss Swan, especially the headboard. Have you ever been tied up before?"

Regina's wandering hand dipped below the waistline of Emma's pants. The brunette twisted the younger woman's panties, pulling at them so they rubbed deliciously against her erect clit.

 _How could I say no to that?_

"I normally do the tying," Emma said, but already she was unable to move in the spider web of the other woman's embrace and was too happy there to even try.

"Not this time," Regina said as she withdrew her fingers. "This time you'll give into me. After all, it's the least you could do after I gave into you."

She straightened, tossing back her dark hair and running her fingers around her mouth to remove the wayward lipstick.

Everything this woman did was pure sex on a Popsicle stick, Emma marveled. She itched to whirl the principal around and disrobe her in the middle of the hallway. She already missed the salty taste of her olive skin on her tongue.

"Your students will be wondering where you've disappeared to," Regina said.

"And Henry?" Emma asked, adjusting herself without half as much grace as her would-be lover.

"He can stay for today." The brunette's eyes drifted to the papers Emma had wrinkled in their tussle. "But for this week only."

"Unless I convince you otherwise."

Regina let out a short laugh. "I can't possibly think of how you would do that."

"I can be very persuasive."

She clasped one of Regina's hands and brought the index finger up to her lips. She licked at the digit slowly before sucking it into her mouth. The brunette shivered at the touch, her eyes fluttering back in her head.

"Yes, you can be," she admitted when Emma freed her. "But the things of which you're convincing me have nothing to do with my son. The rule stands. He will go back to tennis after this week's meeting."

She sulked until Regina pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"Have a pleasant evening, Miss Swan," the principal said.

"You too," Emma replied, watching the other woman saunter away.

"Oh." Regina glanced back and winked. "Be sure to dream of me."

The blonde sagged against the lockers as her boss disappeared around the corner.

 _I am never going to survive this place._

She wiped her neck and cheek with the back of her hands, took a deep breath, and reentered the literary magazine meeting. Henry wasted no time popping up from his seat and approaching her desk.

"What did she say?"

Her face lit up like Rudolph's red nose. "Uh, well, what did you hear?"

"Nothing." He frowned. "You did ask her if I could stay, right?"

"Right," Emma said too enthusiastically. "That's absolutely all we talked about. That and your story."

She showed him the pages she clutched as if offering proof.

His frown deepened. "You wrinkled them."

"Henry, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged. "I don't really care that much. So what did she say?"

"She said no, kid," Emma told him.

His face crumpled, and she hurried to take his shoulders. "But, Henry—"

"You're going to make me stop coming, aren't you?"

He struggled, but she held him tight.

"Listen to me, kid. This only means one thing. You and I just have to change her mind."

"How do we do that?"

She grinned. "As a matter of fact, I have an idea…"

She leaned close and whispered in his ear. He gasped in delight, then shook his head.

"It'll never work, Miss Swan."

"You don't know that," she told him. "Trust me."

She offered her hand. He stared at it for a moment before giving it a firm shake.

"Okay. I trust you."

The next day after classes ended, Emma changed clothes, packing her work things away in her duffle bag. She left the school and took the back route past the trails and track. When she reached the tennis courts and saw a certain brunette woman dressed to the nines already on the bleachers, she considered turning around.

 _You can't crap out now. You promised Henry._

She steeled herself and journeyed the rest of the way to where her favorite student bounced a neon yellow ball on his racket. She ignored Regina's surprised call of "Miss Swan" as she stepped onto the green concrete.

"Hey," she muttered to Henry.

The raccoon grin took over her face as he threw himself at her. "You came."

She caught his hug with a surprised chuckle. "Well, of course I did. Now are you going to teach me how to kick some ass or what?"

He chortled at her choice in language. "Hell yeah."

 _Dear God, if Regina heard him say that she'd murder me._

At that moment, the principal rapped on the chain link that separated the court from the bleachers. "Miss Swan, what _are_ you doing here?"

She dropped into some exaggerated stretches. "Henry's going to teach me how to play tennis. Then I'm going to beat you, so he can keep coming to lit mag."

Regina's eyes narrowed into slits. Emma paused, wondering if she'd pulled the pin on an anger grenade.

"You do know I am a thrice Division I tennis champion, do you not?"

"I didn't," Emma responded. "But I don't really care. I'm still going to beat you."

She earned a competitive smile at last. "You can certainly try your hardest, but when you lose, don't complain that I didn't warn you."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"So when is this fateful match scheduled to take place, Henry?" the principal asked.

"Before Thanksgiving," he said.

Regina laughed. "You think you can beat me after playing for two months? I've been playing tennis all my life."

Henry poked her back. "Maybe this isn't such a good idea."

She waved him off and smirked at her boss. "Math not your strong suit, Dr. Mills? We'll have been practicing for _three_ months by then. There's no way I could lose."

She snatched the racket from her student. "Now, can we get started? We're losing the light."


	9. Chapter 9

**Some smut, some fluff, some back story on both our favorite ladies. Please review, fav, and follow! Your kind words mean the world to me! Also, I apologize in advance to DisturbingVision...I'm not sure how happy you'll be with me at this end of this chap, but I promise I'll redeem myself.**

 ***I listened to Moby's Wait For Me album for this chapter and the one coming. If you want to, you could play it on YouTube while you read. :)***

 **XX**

Chapter 9:

On Thursday, Regina wore yellow to school again. Emma salivated over the brunette's black pantsuit and bright, silken blouse.

 _Dresses. Pants. Is there anything she doesn't look like a goddess in?_

"Are you just going to lock the door behind you and stand in the middle of my office, Miss Swan, or are you going to come here?" the principal asked from her leather chair.

"On my way," she said as she trod over the plush carpet to the other side of the desk. "You know, yellow is my favorite color."

"I'd figured as much. I've seen that hideous vehicle you ride around in."

"Hey, don't insult my Bug. We aren't all rich kids like you."

Regina removed her foot from her stiletto and ran her toes up the inside of Emma's calf. "I'm sure I'd be interested to hear the story of your upbringing."

"You would?"

Regina's movement stopped. She seemed surprised at her own words. "Well, maybe not right now when we have 15 minutes until classes begin, but sometime, yes."

Emma grinned. "And you wore yellow twice this week because you thought it was my favorite color?"

"What of it?" the principal asked, flushing.

She placed her hands on each of the armrests and moved in close. "Dr. Mills, I do believe you have a crush on me."

"Don't be silly," the brunette argued. She lifted her face for a kiss, but Emma denied her.

"No sugar until you admit it."

"Miss Swan—"

"None," she said with a waggle of her behind. "None at all. I may not even show up at your house tonight."

"Fine." Regina cupped her face. "I have a…slight…crush on you. Now will you please kiss me before 7 hours of students separate us?"

Emma responded by placing a chaste peck on the other woman's mouth, not even enough to smear her lipstick.

" _Why_ do you have a crush on me?" she pressed devilishly.

"Why wouldn't I?" The principal yanked the blonde onto her lap. "You're beautiful, smart, kind, good with my son."

At the last phrase, Regina's voice lowered noticeably with affection. Emma's heart sped up at the change in tone.

"I like you, too," she said, "and I like Henry."

"I know." The brunette's hands were gentle as they stroked the younger woman's sides.

"I like you because you're sassy, smart, and sexy as hell."

Regina's pupils expanded with desire. "You have no idea just how sexy I can be, Miss Swan."

"I aim to find out tonight, Your Majesty."

She'd barely finished her last words when the brunette's mouth pressed against hers. Without waiting for an invitation, Emma's fingers moved to the buttons on that yellow blouse. As much as she liked it, she wanted it gone. She unhooked the first clasps, and Regina pressed her chest into Emma's palms.

She cupped the older woman's breasts, breathing harder at their weight. She could feel taut nipples scraping up against the fabric of the black lace bra. Regina groaned as she pinched the pebbled flesh.

"I told you not to wear panties. Did you obey me?" the brunette asked against her mouth.

"Why don't you find out?"

Regina's hand snaked between her legs. Emma gasped as the principal palmed her core through her black jeans. The brunette slid her fingers inside the loose fabric. As she brushed against the slick, bare wetness she found there, both women moaned.

Regina stroked her clit with practiced fingertips, her tongue slipping into the blonde's ear. Emma fell against the other woman's body. The edges of her vision went white as she drew closer to orgasm.

Those magic fingers denied her release, exploring deeper within her folds, taunting, as her inner walls clenched with need.

"I want you inside me," she whispered.

The brunette's free arm squeezed her close. "Tonight."

She pulled her fingers out of Emma's pants just as the warning bell for classes rang.

"That's just cruel," Emma complained as the principal helped her stand on wobbly legs.

"I _am_ the Evil Queen," Regina responded, smirking.

"Right now, yes you are. I can't wait till we get to the part where you redeem yourself."

The brunette hummed as she raised the fingers coated in Emma's desire to her mouth.

 _She wouldn't._

But Regina licked each digit clean, sending a fresh wave of heat through the blonde's aching body. She could still feel that skillful hand on her, knew how quickly it would make her climax when they were alone that night. Embarrassingly so.

"Go to class, Miss Swan," the principal ordered. "I will find you after last period."

She nodded, fastening her jeans and scampering to the door.

"Emma," Regina said as she went to leave, "you taste exquisite."

"As good as an apple?"

"As good as an apple."

The blonde probably would have grinned dumbly at her crush for the remainder of the day if the principal's phone hadn't begun to ring. As Regina answered it, she raced out the door, past Tink who called out a hello, and up the stairs to her classroom.

The final bell rang before she exited the hallway.

"You're late, Miss Swan," Henry crowed as she collapsed at her desk.

"Quiet, you," she replied, smiling.

Her smile stayed glued to her face through 1st period and each class that came after it. She all but floated to the teacher's lounge for lunch.

Red interrupted her daydreaming when she patted the blonde on the head with grilled cheese sandwiches covered in tinfoil.

"Brought your fav again today, but these have tomatoes slices on them. I couldn't convince Granny to leave them off."

"I bet they'll taste wonderful," Emma replied.

"Somebody's chipper today."

She tried to tuck a fraction of her happiness back inside herself as her friend scrutinized her.

"Don't tell me this has something to do Dr. Mills."

"More or less."

Red shook her head. "Be careful with her, Swan. And I'm not saying that because I'm jealous or something. I've just never seen Regina last with anyone before. Actually, I can't even remember her ever mentioning a significant other in the 5 years I've taught here."

"Maybe she just hadn't met the right person."

"Maybe. But she even had Henry when she was single. She up and went to a sperm bank when she was 22—the year before she started here—and got pregnant. We all kind of thought she was asexual."

 _That woman, asexual?_ she scoffed inside.

"How do you know all of this?"

Red shrugged. "I talk to people. I know everything about this place."

"Have you talked to people about me and Regina?"

Her friend gave her a funny look. "No, I wouldn't do that. Besides, I'm pretty sure I was the only one who saw you two dirty dancing at the club."

"And you wouldn't ever talk to anyone about us?"

"Sheesh, Swan, no. I want you both to keep your jobs, even if you are making questionable decisions."

She stared down at the sandwich growing cold in front of her, stomach knotting. Was she really jeopardizing her principal's job? She supposed she was because of their power imbalance.

As for her own position, even though she knew she'd be moving on after winter break, the pull to stay grew stronger every day—not only because of Regina but because of her students and that silly literary magazine, too.

"Red," she said softly, "I'm not sure I'll be ready to go when the semester is over."

Her friend placed a hand over her own. "I know. Me neither. But it's for the best. If you stayed here and things kept up with Dr. Mills, eventually somebody other than me would find out. It might get back to the Board, back to—"

"Regina's mother," Emma finished.

"Exactly. And with the way things are between the two of them, I can't see that turning out well."

"But what if a position opened up here, and Regina offered it to me? She told me she thinks I'm a decent teacher."

Red gave her a sad smile. "Then I guess you'd have to choose between your job and your girl."

Unhappiness pumped through in her veins. She could feel anxiety closing her lungs.

 _It always happens this way. I think I find a home, and then I lose it._

Regina had mentioned interest in Emma's childhood, but shame at her trek through the foster care system stained her cheeks with red.

As for Kathryn, how could she ever explain that part of her past? How could she explain that she'd sold songs about a woman who now lay in the ground? Or that she'd not played an instrument since, even though she minored as a pianist in college.

She half-wished Regina hadn't admitted her crush. If they were going to fuck, Emma could have shoved her own feelings into some dusty corner of her heart. But not now.

"Hey." Red gave her limp hand a little tap. "You okay?"

"Fine," she said, pushing the uneaten sandwich back across the table. "Thanks for this, but I'm not really hungry."

She stood up as she realized she could no longer stare into the other woman's concerned eyes. "I actually forgot I had some grading left to do before my 9th graders show up. I better go. I'll make it up to you, Red, the drinks and the lunches. Promise."

She deserted the teacher's lounge, climbed the stairs, and entered her dark classroom. Leaving the lights off, she put her head on her desk.

 _What can I do to keep Regina from finding out the truth about me?_

She hated herself for it, but she wanted to extend this charade that they could belong together for as long as possible.

Her phone buzzed. She reached into her pocket and withdrew it. When she saw Regina's unsaved number and a waiting text on the screen, most of her sadness died. She flicked open her messages to read what it said.

 _Emma, dear, I am so sorry, but I must cancel our plans tonight. Something unavoidable came up. I do hope you won't be too angry with me._

Angry?

The phone dropped from her hand.

She wasn't angry. She was going to cry.

Stupid fat tears dripped down her cheeks. First Red, now this. She needed Regina's body against her own, those soothing hands stroking away all of her doubts.

Instead, she'd be going to bed alone again in the apartment where half of the boxes she'd moved from Boston sat still packed in her closet, along with her silenced guitar and keyboard.

She could already feel the coldness on the empty side of her mattress creeping into her bones.


	10. Chapter 10

**I'm sorry I went all of Sunday without updating! I had a chapter written, then I decided to rework things because I've been wanting to write something from Regina's perspective. This seemed like the perfect place. I took some, *ahem,* liberties with characters (AKA: Zelena is now _Zeleno_ ). You'll see why as you read. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. There's a ton of plot and character development, so stay tuned for more!  
**

 **XX**

Chapter 10:

Regina parked her 560SL next to the five-car garage at Mills Manor. Her black Benz took up a fraction of the driveway, which was large enough for her parents' yacht to winter on and their RV to slumber beside it.

"Henry," she called as her son scrambled out of the backseat, "don't forget your—"

"Jacket," she finished when the door slammed on her last word.

She watched him scamper up to the mansion's front door, more comfortable in her childhood home than she would ever be. Sighing, Regina lifted the salad and spring rolls she'd brought for the evening. She could still hear her mother's raspy voice on the phone, berating her for missing family dinners since the semester started.

 _I won't take no for an answer,_ Cora insisted.

Regina knew better than to argue when her mother took that tone. She cancelled her plans with Emma with a heavy heart and showed up at the place she'd been avoiding.

The manor had already swallowed her son when she pressed the doorbell.

Cora Mills answered the buzzer, her salt and pepper hair—more pepper than salt—swept up in a neat bun, her lipstick immaculate, and her pearls shimmering in the light of the foyer.

"Really, Regina?" her mother said by way of greeting. "You're wearing jeans? It's not even the weekend, dear."

She glanced down past the trays she held at the dark denim that clad her legs, its surface soft from countless washes.

"I apologize, Mother. It's hard to cook in a dress and six-inch heels."

"And yet _I_ manage it everyday," Cora muttered as she opened the door wider to admit her daughter. "Well, come in before the food grows cold."

They passed through the grand foyer and turned into the formal dining area where the Mills family could seat a small army at their ancient cherry oak table. Cora had set four places at one end of the table, the good silver sparking under the chandelier that lit the room.

"Take your dishes to the kitchen, dear. We'll plate everything in there for the gentlemen."

Regina half-hated, half-adored the way her mother's voice softened when she spoke of Henry Sr. and her son. Why, she wondered, hadn't even an ounce of that affection ever made its way into her lonely childhood?

She helped Cora dish out pork cutlets marinated in marmalade, vegetables seared in pig fat, and red-skinned baby potatoes, their flesh soaked in garlic and butter.

"None for me," she said, holding her hand over her plate when Cora attempted to lay down a cutlet.

"You're still on your anti-meat fad? Regina, you're too thin. You need some hardy fare in your diet."

"It's not a fad. I've been vegan for more than 10 years now."

She examined her mother from the corner of her eye as Cora added a homemade dressing to the salad she brought. She was too fat. She was too thin. If a perfect number for her weight existed, it would probably look like a wingding.

When the food was ready, Regina took her helping of spring rolls, salad, and fruit medley into the dining room, holding her son's heaping plate in her other hand. It weighed twice as much as hers did, she noted with a grimace.

 _Maybe I would eat more, Mother, if you cared enough to prepare anything that fit my dietary restrictions._

"Henry," she called into the echoing foyer, "Daddy, time to eat."

Her father and son appeared moments later, grinning their way to their seats. Her heart swelled with love as she handed Henry Jr. his food. Unable to stop herself, she dropped a kiss on his bedhead.

"Mom," he complained, gently pushing her away, but he smiled wider none-the-less. Seeing him here reminded her that he had been worth all the pain she'd endured to bring him to life. He would always be her angel, her saving grace, her only reason to stay connected to her mother.

She kissed her father on his wrinkled cheek as well, breathing in the heady oak and peppermint scent of his tobacco. She found safety in that smell. She could remember him holding her when she was small, smoking in front of the fire, so many times after Mother made her cry.

 _What would I do without him?_

When Cora arrived, Henry Sr. said a prayer, and the family began to eat, the sound of silver clacking on china. Her father and mother entertained Henry Jr. with questions about his classes and tennis practice, while Regina drifted off into her own world as they conversed.

She wondered what Emma would think if she saw her in these jeans. Would she like the way this old denim pair hugged her behind? Warmth flared between her legs at the thought of Emma's hand squeezing her ass in the grocery store.

 _God,_ what she wouldn't give to be with the blonde right now, touching, exploring, tasting Emma again.

She must have made a noise because all eyes at the table focused on her.

"Are you all right, dear?" Cora asked. "Your cheeks are flushed."

"Fine," she managed, doing her best to tamp down the desirous beast that roared within her.

"Perhaps a hot toddy?" her father said. "That'll kill a cold if you have one brewing."

"Please," she replied. "I'll help you."

She followed Henry Sr. to the kitchen where he boiled water to add to their whiskey.

"I was feeling a bit peaky, too," he told her with a wink. "It's your mother's pork. I've told her a hundred times I can't stomach such fatty meat anymore, but she pays me no mind."

"You and me both," she murmured as she pressed cloves into lemon slices.

"Tell me what's going on, princess," he said. "I haven't seen you so distracted for a good bit now."

"I had plans tonight," she admitted.

"With a man?"

Her blush deepened. "Well…yes."

She bit down on the truth because she knew as much as her father loved her, there were some things their family simply did not acknowledge, not even now that she was in her thirties.

"You must really be fond of him," her father said.

"You can tell?"

He nodded.

She stared down at the hot drink in her hand. She was so fond of Emma it was embarrassing. The blonde infiltrated her every thought ever since she'd fallen into Regina's office. And that first kiss…

She shivered, despite the warm liquid she clutched. She'd not expected Emma to receive her so readily, to respond so well, or to be so skilled with her fingers and tongue. She could only imagine the extent of the blonde's skills, and imagine she did in her baths, her king-sized bed, and behind her closed office door.

"Princess?" her father said.

She jerked back into reality, wishing the burning between her thighs would leave her alone.

"Perhaps we can keep Henry one day this weekend, and you can spend time with your male friend," her father suggested. "Will that make it up to you?"

She thought of her phone in her pocket and how silent it had been since she'd cancelled on the blonde. She could only hope Emma would give her a chance to explain.

"Yes, that might work," she said. "I will be sure to keep you updated."

The liquor ate through her sharp edges as they returned to the table and finished eating. She made it through her mother's comments on the lines forming around her mouth and the one-sided discussion about the Board's decision to cut at will teachers it determined unfit. When Cora dragged Henry Jr. into the kitchen to wash the dishes, she couldn't have been more relieved.

"Will you have a cigar with me?" her father asked.

She chuckled, nodded, and followed him out of the dining room, down the hall, and into his den. Henry Sr. settled her on one of the brown leather couches. He turned on the gas fireplace and tennis on the TV above, and scuffled about in his humidor.

She languished in the heat, unbuttoning the top two clasps on her blouse, leaning her long neck back as she downed the rest of her toddy.

"Cuban?" her father asked as he snipped the tips. "Tonight feels like a celebration."

She accepted the fat roll of tobacco, smelling its heady scent, before she lit it between her lips. She breathed the smoke into her mouth, holding the flavor in deep before releasing it. Her father puffed beside her, his gaze glued to the tennis match. She tenderly studied the map of wrinkles pressed into his profile.

As the liquor and smoke took over her body, her eyes shifted to the family picture that hung on the wall behind him. The smiling faces of her mother, her father, her much younger self, and her brother belied what had happened to them.

 _Zeleno._

The cracked vase of her heart fractured further as she stared at the boy who could have been her son, if Zeleno's hair and eyes were not quite so dark.

The memory engulfed her without waiting to see if she was ready.

She remembered tiptoeing out of the room she shared with her brother where his twin bed lay empty. As she nudged open the door to her parents' bedroom, she saw her mother seated on the bench at the end of the bed, her shoulders shaking. A much younger Henry Sr. held his wife.

"It's all right," he mumbled against her messy hair. "It'll be all right, Cora."

Her mother's voice held venom as she spoke. "It won't, Henry. How can you say that?"

"We still have Regina," her father responded. Despite his wife's anger, he was gentle, soft, as in love with her as the day they met.

"If God had to take one of them," Cora cried, "why couldn't it have been the girl? Why would He take my little boy from me?"

"We can always try again."

Cora pushed her husband away. "You know what the doctor said. We can't. She's all that's left. The Mills legacy is dead. I've failed you as a wife."

Regina recalled backing out of the light. In the cold hallway, she finally understood what they meant when they told her angels had taken Zeleno. He would not be back. The bed beside her would always be empty. And her mother would always wish that Regina were dead instead of him.

"Henry has a match coming up, doesn't he?" her father said, interrupting her rumination.

"He does."

"Has he been working on his backswing?"

She thought about the practices her son had missed since Emma took over the literary magazine. "It's coming along."

Her father stubbed out his cigar. "I know he's still young, but no scout will pick him up if his backswing stays where it is. What do you think about hiring a coach to work with him on the weekends?"

 _A terrible idea,_ Regina thought. _He'll only grow to hate it more._

But she smiled. "Perhaps."

"You just give me the go, and I'll write the check."

The brunette made a noncommittal noise before scooting to the edge of the couch. "Thank you for the company, Daddy. I should be getting home."

He followed her out of the din and up the spiral staircase to the room Henry stayed in when he spent the night. Cora sat with Henry on his bed, wearing glasses low on her nose and reading, while he wrote in a notebook.

"Doing homework?" she asked him as she rounded the mattress to stand beside him.

"Working on my story," he told her.

Her heart quivered in her chest. She saw the passion for words in his eyes. He loved writing enough to jeopardize the pieces of the Mills legacy that still remained—the legacy that he had a duty to save.

 _My poor, sweet son. You don't yet understand your terrible burden._

She held her arms out, and he fell into her hug.

"I love you, Henry," she whispered.

"Love you, too, Mom," he mumbled against her shirt. "See you at school tomorrow."

She let him go, missing his warmth, then crossed back to where her father watched the scene from the door.

"Don't forget your dishes, dear," her mother called after her.

She nodded, embraced her father, then left the three of them in the dimly lit bedroom that hummed with Henry's youth. She doubted she would sleep well without him near. She never did.

The ride back into town took twenty minutes. Inside her empty house, she slipped out of her jacket and shoes and climbed the steps to her bedroom. She pulled her phone from her pocket before she undressed, checking for a text from Emma.

Her heart soared when she saw a message waiting from the blonde.

 _No worries. Hope everything is okay._

She couldn't type back fast enough.

 _Thank you for being so understanding, Emma. Let me take you out on a proper date this weekend to make up for my cancellation. I do hope you're still interested._

She stared at the phone for several seconds, hoping for a quick reply, but it sat silent in her palm. At last, she gave up and plugged it in near her bed.

She stripped to nothing, enjoying the one luxury that having Henry away afforded her. The Egyptian cotton sheets soothed her bare skin but did nothing to chase out the loneliness that crept into the dark room.

 _Emma._

Her mind was insatiable. She could feel the blonde's body pressed into hers, could almost count the rapid beats of the substitute teacher's heart as their lips found one another.

She groaned, tossing under her covers, refusing the slake the ache between her legs. She checked her phone for a new message. Nothing.

 _Does she hate me? I don't even know how to show her the way that I feel._

She couldn't remember the last time she'd been out on a real date. Spending a few sweaty hours in a luxury hotel with a girl whose name she would forget with a hangover didn't count. Did she even remember _how_ to date anymore? Could she imagine herself as Emma's…girlfriend?

 _What about my family? And the school? No one would understand._

Sleep failed her, so she rose again and padded to Henry's bedroom. She felt through the darkness to retrieve one of the stuffed animals forgotten in the back of his closet. She carried a large bear back to her room, curled around it, and drifted off, wishing the bear was Emma and that Henry still slept with stuffed animals in the room beside them.

 **XX**

 **I hope that the image of Regina with her shirt unbuttoned and a cigar in her perfect mouth didn't offend anyone. Characters do what they want to do. I just write their adventures down. Anyway, I thought it was beyond hot. New chapter up soon, so don't go anywhere!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Short chapter from Emma's PoV. We get some insight into her past. Next chapter(s)-DATE NIGHT! Fucking finally. :)**

 **XX**

Chapter 11:

Somehow Emma willed away her tears and made it through the rest of that shitty Thursday after Regina cancelled on her. When school ended, she drove straight home, changed, and hit the pavement.

She tore through her run. She ran to escape herself. She ran to escape her past. She ran to escape Storybrooke Prep and the pair of bourbon eyes that followed her everywhere she went. By the time she returned to her apartment, she'd cried herself out, and her throat stung from snot and chilly air.

Shivering from the cold sweat that coated her body, she put on her teakettle. While she waited for the water's whistle, she located her phone at the bottom of her briefcase. She saw no new texts from Regina.

"Well, what did I expect? I never messaged her back."

Her storm of emotions had reached its eye, so she typed with calm fingers.

 _No worries. Hope everything is okay._

The message whooshed into cyberspace as her teakettle announced it'd done its job. She drank her tea in the bathtub, boiling her body slowly from the inside out. There was a message waiting for her when she wrapped herself in her fuzzy robe.

 _Long time, no talk, Duckling. Want to grab a drink tonight?_

Killian.

Though he was not the brunette she wanted to hear from, she didn't want to be alone.

 _Good timing. What are you doing in town?_

 _Business,_ her old friend replied. _Meet me at The Rabbit Hole in 20._

She dressed in jeans and a ratty t-shirt because the dive bar Killian liked so much required nothing more of her. As she pulled up, she was infinitely thankful for his suggestion. Surely she wouldn't run into anyone from Storybrooke Prep here, and even if she did, maybe the teachers wouldn't recognize her in the haze of cigarette smoke.

She found Killian wearing all black and hunched over a whisky neat.

"Hey, Ugly Duckling," he said, eyes twinkling with drink when she tapped him on the shoulder.

The ancient nickname sent a sense of hominess through her body that she desperately needed. "Hey, dumbass."

"What's wrong with you?" he asked.

Damn it. How did the man know her so well?

"Nothing a drink won't fix," she replied.

"Emma." He frowned at her. "What about that vow you made? To never sad drink again?"

His words hurt more than he could possibly have known, due to her interactions with Red and Regina.

"Things are changing," she mumbled, flagging down the bartender. "Gin and tonic, please. Less tonic, more gin."

"She'll have a Coke," Killian argued.

"Fuck you, Kill Bill. I'll take a gin and tonic."

The bartender disappeared to make her drink, while her friend gaped at her.

"But, Emma, what about Kathryn?"

"If you want to talk about her, I'll leave right now. I don't care that she's your sister," Emma told him. "We _can_ discuss whatever the hell this business trip you're on is about. Your choice."

He let it go. "I'm buying another boat. Our fishing co-op is booming. We still need a business manager if you're interested. I told the guys about you. They could use a beautiful blonde on the crew."

She imagined herself shivering on the bow of Killian's new boat, nothing but ocean before her, the smell of sea life heavy in the air.

"Well, my teaching gig is up in December."

"I guarantee it would pay better than what you're doing now. You could get a new car. Maybe a house."

He had that same hidden hopefulness in his gaze that he always did when it came to the thought of Emma's future—the one he planned for her.

"I'll think about it," she said, meaning it.

They drank in relative silence after that.

"Do you still think about my sister?" he asked when he was drunker.

"I hadn't for a couple weeks," she replied.

"Sorry to spoil it for you."

"It wasn't you," she told him. "It was work."

"Sounds like a sucky job."

She shrugged, swiped a finger across the bottom of her empty glass, and sucked it dry.

"How the fuck did Kathryn's suicide come up at work?"

They locked eyes.

"God, I see so much of her in you," she choked out, ignoring his question.

"I see her every time I look in the mirror."

"How do we move on?" she asked.

"I don't think we do. We fucked up, Emma. We didn't save her. We deserve to feel the way we do. It's punishment."

She couldn't stand to sit beside him for another second.

"I have to go," she mumbled, throwing dollar bills onto the bar. "I'll let you know about the job."

He grabbed her wrist as she rose out of her seat. "Stay, Duckling, I'm sorry. I'll shut up about it. We can't do anything about the past anyway. And you still haven't told what had you so upset in the first place."

She sank back down slowly, ready to bolt if he started in again. When he stayed quiet, waiting for her to speak, she filled him in on her classes, the literary magazine, her tennis lessons. She told him everything she liked about Storybrooke Prep, aside from Regina.

"Sounds like you love it there," he said when she finished.

"Yeah, I do."

"Then why so glum?"

"Because I won't be able to keep working there after winter break."

"You don't know that for sure. Maybe a position will open up."

She thought about Regina and the dark cloud of her mother who ran the Board that hung over them both.

"I doubt it."

"Give it a shot, Duckling. You never know. Things might work out. Maybe you'll get your happily ever after."

He gave her a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of his blue eyes. He really did look like Kathryn at that moment, aside from the stubble dotting his chin and his stronger jaw. She almost expected to see her ex morph from his body and take a seat beside them.

In her mind's eye, the scene shifted. She imagined Regina on the bleachers, watching as she struggled to return the volleys Henry sent her way.

She could see the slight lines around the older woman's mouth, the small scar on her upper lip, the auburn tint her hair took on under the sun. She blew Emma away with her beauty.

"Earth to Swan," Killian said, waving his hand in front of her face.

"Sorry," she gasped.

"Are you going to be okay?"

She nodded, solid in her answer. "I am, Kill Bill. What about you?"

"I'll survive." He tipped his drink at her. "Go home and sleep. You look like you need it."

She embraced her old friend before leaving. Back at her apartment, she crawled under her covers, still stinking of cigarette smoke. As she closed her eyes, she heard her phone vibrate on her nightstand.

She pulled it close and blinked at the bright screen.

 _Thank you for being so understanding, Emma. Let me take you out on a proper date this weekend to make up for my cancellation. I do hope you're still interested._

Regina.

God how her heart sang in her chest—despite her past, despite their situation, despite the shadowy figure of the principal's mother who threatened to keep them apart.

She took her time formulating a response. Minutes after midnight, she sent back a single word.

 _Yes._


	12. Chapter 12

**If this chapter came with a sign, it would say: Caution, readers-We've entered smut city.**

 **Enjoy this first date night chapter...More to come very soon. If you want to listen to something to set the mood while you're reading, I recommend Barnacles by Emancipator. It's what I had playing while writing.**

 **XX**

Chapter 12:

At Storybrooke Prep that Friday, Emma deposited her briefcase on her desk chair, took a swig of her cinnamon coffee, and opened the blinds to allow in the morning sun. She turned to leave, intent on visiting the principal's office when the door to the unlit classroom opened.

She expected an early student, so when she saw Regina's hot gaze on her, she nearly dropped her travel mug in surprise.

"What are you doing here?"

The brunette lifted an eyebrow. "You're not pleased to see me?"

"I-I—" She was excited and confused and turned on and still half-mad that her original plans to seduce the other woman had been called off. In addition, she didn't know how much longer her poor clit would survive if the principal continued to deny her a frantic release.

Regina crossed the room in clipped strides, coming to take the blonde's hands in her own. Emma noted the plea for forgiveness in her bourbon gaze. But she wasn't about to give in quite so easily.

"What was so important that you called off our plans?" she asked.

"I had…" The brunette's eyes slipped away from hers, and her fingers tightened around Emma's palms. "I had family obligations."

"Ah." She withdrew herself from her boss's grasp.

 _I can't even imagine what that's like._

"Is Henry okay?"

"Yes, of course," Regina hurried to respond. "It's just, well, you see, my mother, she and I, we…"

The corners of her mouth lifted as she listened to the principal babble. She could watch those plump, quivering lips move all day. However, they didn't have all day.

She surged forward, took Regina by the back of her head, and drew the older woman into a kiss that left them both gasping.

"Emma," Regina panted when the blonde released her, "good god, how do you expect me to go to work now?"

"How did _you_ expect me to get to sleep last night after what you'd promised me?"

"Touché," the brunette muttered. Then her eyes brightened. "Are you free this weekend? My parents offered to watch Henry, so I could…entertain you."

"You told your folks about us?" Emma asked incredulously.

"Not exactly."

She shrugged off the vague response. "I could probably rearrange my calendar for Saturday night."

The principal missed her cheeky tone. "Really? Saturday would be perfect. There's a show playing in Portland, a musical in fact. We could have dinner beforehand at this grand little—"

She pulled the other woman into another lingering kiss.

"You're babbling again," she whispered against Regina's trembling body.

"I'm sorry. I'm…excited."

"Me too," Emma admitted. She traced her would-be lover's jaw. "Thanks for asking me on a real date."

"I decided I want to do this right. I like you, Miss Swan. Very much."

Hearing the brunette admit her feelings with cheeks as red as a brick wall melted her last defenses.

"You'll text me the details?"

"I'll even pick you up."

"Bring flowers," Emma kidded.

"I'll bring you the world," Regina replied, her stare serious.

"Just you will be enough."

She felt her boss's nails dig into the small of her back, sending waves of heat straight to her core. The principal's apologetic eyes transformed with desire.

"I want to—" Regina murmured.

The first bell went off in the hallway.

They separated, a hair slower than they should have, as a stampede of 6th graders invaded the classroom.

"You want to what?" Emma asked, desperate for the answer.

But the brunette shook her head, smirking. "Never mind. I'll show you instead."

"Saturday?"

"Saturday."

Then the older woman disappeared, leaving Emma a hot mess in front of her students.

 _This day will be the death of me,_ she thought as she attempted to force her brain to think literature, instead of naked Dr. Mills.

As she feared, Friday slid by like a sea slug. Saturday morning passed much the same way, even as she shopped for a proper dress and underwear that actually matched. By the time, Regina was scheduled to arrive, she worried she would shrivel up like a corpse and never achieve her goal of putting her mouth on the brunette's most sacred of places. She paced in her kitchen, willing the doorbell to ring.

When a knock echoed through the apartment, she lunged forward and yanked open the front door.

"Hello," she breathed.

Regina wore a black dress with a neckline that plunged between her breasts. She carried a clutch in one hand and held a bouquet of yellow lilies in the other, which she extended.

"You actually brought me flowers," Emma said, flabbergasted.

"And they're yellow." The brunette winked one dusky eye. "See? This was worth waiting for, wasn't it?"

"Hell yeah."

She hadn't finished admiring the bouquet when her date closed the space between them. They stumbled back into the apartment, the older woman slamming the door behind them, as their lips crashed together.

Emma gave up her hold on the flowers in order to wind her arms around Regina's neck. She pushed back against the hungry mouth that met hers, dueling for dominance with her tongue. Desire plunged through her body as she allowed the brunette to win.

They tumbled onto her couch, the other woman's full weight pressing down on her body, moving between her legs.

"Oh god," she groaned as Regina slid a thigh between them.

She squeezed her eyes shut as warm flesh met her wet center.

 _So close. I'm so close._

"W-wait," she stammered.

The brunette ceased her movements, pulling back an inch to evaluate Emma's face. "What's wrong?"

"It's just—" Her body stood poised on the edge of orgasm, hating her for not letting this go the rest of the way.

She almost gave in when her stomach let out a mighty growl.

"I see," Regina said, laughing. "Well then, Miss Swan, let's get you fed."

As the older woman rose from the couch, Emma caught her around the waist. "As long as I can have you for dessert."

She loved the way her date trembled at those words, loved the way the brunette engulfed her in a sinful gaze.

"Oh, I plan on being the best thing that you taste tonight," Regina said.

Somehow they made it out the front door, into the Benz, and found the highway that whisked them into Portland.

As they searched for parking in the city's crowded center, Emma took the older woman's free hand in her own. She traced the lifelines on the palm, then the veins. She lifted the hand to her lips and ran her tongue over the soft skin between thumb and index finger. As Regina parked, she let out a noise of pleasure.

"We're never going to make it into the restaurant if you keep that up," the brunette said lowly, as Emma sucked the flesh into her mouth.

She ignored her date's words, dropping kisses down the rest of the palm until she reached the black cuff Regina always wore.

"Can you take this off?" she asked.

For a moment, the older woman paused. Then she complied, dropping the watch between them.

Emma chuckled as she saw the feather tattooed on the brunette's skin. "Seriously? You gave me all that crap about my tattoo when you have one, too?"

"I keep mine covered at work," the principal replied stiffly. "We would both do well to be discreet while we're there."

She didn't want to take the time to unpack the many layers that sentence held. "Let's not talk about work, okay?"

They strolled the streets of Portland, searching for Hugo's. While they walked, Emma entwined Regina's fingers with her own. The brunette glanced down as she did so, smiled, and squeezed.

They found the small restaurant where Regina flagged over wait staff. "A booth for two."

As the waiter led them between booths and the bar, Emma leaned against her date's back.

"I like it when you give commands, Your Majesty."

The older woman gave her a look hot with intention. "Are you saying you would like to submit to me?"

"Very much."

Regina gestured for her to slide into the booth first, then followed her. "Be careful what you wish for, Miss Swan. You just might get it."

The waiter barely held in his lewd grin as he watched the principal slide up the blonde's dress and squeeze her bare leg.

They placed orders for martinis, and when he went to fetch them, Regina tugged her so close she practically sat in the other woman's lap. Everywhere the brunette's body pressed up against her felt like fire. She thought she might combust as her date continued to rub circles on her inner thigh.

"This is torture," she whispered, unable to breathe in enough of the older woman's intoxicating scent.

"It is," Regina agreed. "I wish I were undressing you right now."

Her other hand found the zipper on the back of Emma's dress. She drew her fingernail down the edge of the fabric, making the blonde's spine curve under her touch. As the principal placed a wet kiss on her shoulder, her nipples stood at full attention, and she held in a whimper by only a thread.

All too soon, or perhaps not soon enough, the waiter returned with their drinks and took their order. Emma corralled herself on the other side of the booth, which gave her a better chance to study the woman who sat flushed beside her.

"Tell me something about you I don't know," the brunette commanded.

A moment of panic passed through her. What could she say that wouldn't give away too much?

"Well, I started subbing in Storybrooke a couple of years ago when I moved here."

"Where did you live before that?"

She debated about answering. "Boston."

"Were you there for school?"

"Yes."

"God, Emma, getting anything out of you is like pulling teeth."

"Sorry." She gulped down half her martini. "I don't like to talk about my past much."

"I see."

"What about you?"

"Me?" It was Regina's turn to raise her liquor to her lips. "I'm afraid there isn't terribly much to share. I've been at Storybrooke Prep since I graduated from college. I worked there as a teacher, while completing my terminal degree. Shortly after I received my PhD, the Board promoted me to principal."

"What about Henry?"

"What about him?"

"Were you married when you had him? Or in a relationship?" She knew the rumor Red had shared, but she wanted to hear the truth.

The brunette frowned. "I was in a relationship a little before I got pregnant. Part of the reason it ended was because I didn't want to wait to have a child. Women in my family don't tend to have longevity when it comes to having children."

Emma noted the flicker of pain that passed across Regina's face. Before she could soothe it or ask further questions, their food arrived. Temporarily distracted by the steak and lobster mac'n cheese in front of her, she let the topic drop.

For several minutes, their conversation lulled. When Emma finally looked up from her plate again, she'd all but scraped it clean. Beside her, the older woman finished her avocado gazpacho with a delicate turn of her wrist.

The liquor in her system made the dim restaurant fall into another world, leaving her alone with Regina in the small space. Yearning for the brunette stole her breath from her lungs.

"Are you ready to watch the musical?" the older woman asked softly as she drank up the blonde's gaze.

"As long as it's with you."

They squabbled over the check, Regina winning that fight with an unfair announcement that she would withhold sex until further notice if Emma didn't relent. Once the bill was paid, they stepped into the chilled night and walked the short distance to the theatre. Inside, the older woman secured their tickets. They wandered to the bar for wine, while they waited for seating to begin.

"So tell me about this musical," Emma said, frowning at the playbill. "Is it really called Once like our literary magazine? Is this a joke?"

"Not at all, though the name is serendipitous. Once is the tale of an Irishman who falls in love with a woman whose vacuum he fixes one night in Dublin."

"Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"Is that sarcasm, Miss Swan? Just wait until you hear the score. Then I think you'll sing a sweeter tune."

She allowed Regina to lead her doubtful form up a flight of stairs. There, an usher escorted them down a long, dark hallway. They emerged in a private balcony above the stage. Emma's jaw dropped as she realized she could see the details in the crushed velvet curtains and…that they would have the entire area to themselves.

 _This isn't good._

The description of the play already had her bored to tears—no matter how much she loved music.

 _If I can't pay attention, I won't be able to keep my eyes off her. Or my hands. Or my mouth. I don't want to waste the money she spent on the tickets._

"Are you going to sit?" the brunette asked, patting the spot next to her when Emma stayed frozen in place.

"Uh, maybe I'll stand."

"Come here, Miss Swan," Regina ordered.

The tone weakened her knees, and she obeyed.

The lights in the theatre lowered as the principal entwined her fingers with the blonde's and pulled her close. The older woman brushed feather light kisses behind Emma's ear, moving her long hair out of the way, running her tongue down her arched neck. She gasped as need exploded through her veins.

Regina's wayward hand slipped beneath the neck of her dress and found her aching nipple. The brunette palmed the sensitive flesh, earning more noises from the younger woman.

"C-can they hear us down below?" Emma stammered as the soft thunder of the audience reached her ears.

"I don't care," Regina said, "I almost hope they do. You sound exquisite."

She pinched the taut bundle of nerves that had hardened impossibly under her touch. Emma moaned. She moved from her seat to straddle the older woman's lap. There, the brunette met her gaze with bourbon eyes hooded with desire. She rolled her hips underneath the blonde, pressing against Emma's center.

"Are you wet?"

In answer, the blonde took Regina's free hand and slid it under her dress. She inhaled sharply as bare skin caressed bare folds.

"You're not wearing underwear," the principal said breathlessly.

"I bought some," Emma said, "but I decided not to wear it."

The other woman brought her hand around her hip and gave her naked ass a slap. Jolts of pain mingled with pleasure rocked her body. She held tight to Regina's shoulders, fearing she would lose her grip on reality if she let go. A second smack, harder this time, left its mark on her behind.

"Do you like that?" Regina drawled, stroking the sensitized flesh.

"I-I do."

"You do what?"

She closed her eyes as her principal spanked her again. "I do, _Your Majesty_."

"That's my girl." The older woman's fingers traveled back to play in her wetness. "Now, take your seat. The music is starting."

"Why won't you just fuck me?" Emma asked.

The brunette gave her a dark grin. "I thought at dinner you said you wanted to submit to me."

"Well, maybe I changed my—"

"Go to your seat, Miss Swan. I will fuck you tonight, but you'll have to wait for it. You'll beg for me before I let you come." Her lips found the blonde's ear, leaving it wet and burning with desire as she sucked the lobe into her mouth. "Because I am your Evil Queen."

 **XX**

 **The more reviews, favs, follow I get, the faster the next chapter will be up. It's one of the busiest weeks for me at work and in my classes, so I need some serious inspiration to write this week-and YOUR feedback gives me just that! Love you all! XOXO**


	13. Chapter 13

**This chapter contains explicit lesbian sex. If you're not into that sort of thing, go no further. For all of you enjoying the story, please read on. Thanks for the reviews, favs, and follows for the last chapter! They make my day, and they make me write faster.**

 **XX**

Chapter 13:

Emma hovered on the edge of orgasm as she lifted herself from Regina's lap. She did her best to keep her legs from pressing together as she returned to her seat. She pulled her skirt down to cover the rough, red cushion, worrying she would leave it stained with her desire for the woman next to her.

From the corner of her eye, she watched her date run a pink tongue across fingertips that shimmered with Emma's wetness. Her muscles clenched as the brunette cleaned up every last drop. She opened her mouth with the intent to beg the principal to finish her right then and there when the curtains rose, and the orchestra swelled.

 _The acoustics are excellent in here. Whoa._

Her reluctant attention shifted to the stage.

 _Music, it still gets me every time._

The minutes passed, and she found she couldn't look away from the actors. When the vacuum repairman made love with his guitar to the girl who sold flowers, her hands lifted from her lap. She could _feel_ the chords in her bones. Unaware of her movements, she strummed along with him. The urge to sift through the closet for her instruments hit her like fresh oxygen after drowning in the sea.

She _needed_ to play again. After the years of silence, it was finally time.

"I didn't know you played guitar," Regina whispered.

She jumped, remembering the brunette's presence, then nodded.

"Will you play for me?"

Her voice came out thick with the past as she responded. "I'm afraid I'm a bit rusty."

"No," her date said, covering Emma's moving fingers with her own, "you're perfect."

They held hands through the rest of the numbers, not even letting go during intermission. The brunette's palm kept her from tumbling into memories, kept her focused on that present moment. It tempted her with a better future.

 _Could we make this work?_ she wondered as the characters asked one another the same thing. _Despite all of our differences, could we fall in love?_

She dared a glimpse at Regina's profile. Her heart stuttered within her chest.

 _God, I'm already falling._

And she didn't want to stop, not when this hand she held seemed to promise it would be there to pull her back to her feet.

She ached to tell the other woman everything that she felt. But she refused to let the words leave the safety of her throat, scared to even admit them to herself.

 _What if she doesn't feel the same way?_

She could not take another devastation. In her 25 years, she'd already faced too many.

 _I'll just let this be whatever it is. Even if it's only for tonight._

She refocused on the actors, listening to their last duet, expecting them to travel to New York City together.

But instead, they relinquished one another and exited on opposite ends of the stage. Their love extinguished as quickly as it had been lit.

When the house lights went up, she realized tears flowed from her eyes.

"Emma," Regina said in surprise as she pulled the blonde close, "why are you crying?"

"They should have been together," she sobbed. "I'm sorry. It's stupid. I know it's just a play. I didn't expect it to hit me so hard."

The brunette stroked her back. "It's all right, dear. If you need to cry, then cry."

She sniffled against the principal's shoulder, breathing in that apple scent. The tears slowed as she did. She wound her arms around Regina and hugged her tight, trying to remember if Kathryn ever allowed her to cry like this.

She was the first to pull out of their embrace. "Thank you."

"I'm sorry the play saddened you," Regina replied. "Though I will take whatever excuse I can to have you in my arms."

 _That._

When the brunette said things like _that_ , it undid her. She could probably have burst into another round of ugly tears, but she hiccupped instead.

"Here." The other woman lifted her shawl from her shoulders and mopped up the blonde's face. "That's better. Your mascara was a mess."

"I don't really know how to put it on without it clumping anyway," Emma admitted.

"Hmm, I have so many things I can teach you."

She smiled as her date winked at her. "Well then, want to get out of here?"

" _God_ ," the older woman exclaimed, "I'm glad you asked. I thought the play would never end."

"You weren't as enraptured as I was?" she asked as they vacated their seats.

"Only by thoughts of you."

When they reached the car, Regina fiddled with the dash until lyrics strained through the speakers.

"I bought the soundtrack to Once, so you could listen to it on the way back. The first time I heard the music, it wasn't enough. I thought you might feel the same, though that was before you started crying. I can turn it off if—"

"It's wonderful, and so was the play," Emma interrupted. "Thank you for doing all of this. It means more to me than you know."

The itch to have her guitar back in her lap had yet to die.

They sped down the highway, letting the music dispel silence. Then, Regina began to sing.

Emma's jaw dropped as her date's voice swelled with the music. Full-bodied notes dripped from the brunette's lips, mingling, dancing, tangling with the male accompaniment.

"Sing with me," Regina offered.

"I-I can't. Not like you," she stammered. "I just play a couple of instruments."

The other woman shrugged and continued the melody.

 _I need her to sing something I've written,_ Emma thought. _She has the most beautiful voice I've ever heard._

But then she'd never been gifted with words, and she couldn't give the principal one of Kathryn's poems.

She would find something, she vowed, find some other way to hear that haunting voice again after tonight.

As the final song trailed off, the brunette slowed her car.

"We're here," she said.

Emma squinted past the high beams at the house—no, the mansion—that they parked at. In the darkness, she couldn't count how many massive windows glared down at them from the immaculate white front. She could make out a wraparound porch and the hedges cut into squares that seemed too perfect to be real.

" _This_ is where you live?"

"Yes."

"Henry lives here, too?"

"Of course."

"I can't believe I let you see my hole of an apartment," she muttered.

"Your apartment is lovely," the brunette corrected. "After all, you live there."

She nodded her thanks, wondering, _Just how rich is this woman?_

"Would you care to come in for a nightcap?"

She stopped scrutinizing the huge beast of a house and met Regina's gaze. As they stared at one another, her skin grew hot. Her nipples hardened beneath her dress. The desire in the older woman's bourbon eyes melted her insecurities. She knew what her date wanted, and it wasn't for them to share another drink.

"I would like to come in," she said, "and then I would like to come."

Without responding, the principal vacated her seat and slammed the car door after an exiting Emma almost before the blonde could blink.

She trailed behind as they crossed the path to the house. Heart hammering, she climbed the steps to the porch.

"After you," Regina murmured, allowing Emma to pass once she'd unlocked the entrance.

Inside, the brunette flipped on the lights.

"Shoes off, please," she said before Emma could step onto the carpet.

As the blonde removed her heels, she surveyed the space. The interior of the home housed a kitchen with a marble island to the left and a large sitting area to the right. Ahead of them, a staircase unfurled. Emma wondered if it led to the bedroom. She started to head toward it when her date caught her hand.

"Eager, are we?"

"To put it mildly."

"I am too," the older woman said, drawing the blonde against her. "I don't even think I can wait until we reach my room."

Before the words could fully register, Regina claimed her with a kiss.

She yielded against the hard press of plump lips, opening her mouth to receive the older woman. Instead of exploring Emma's offer, the brunette sucked at her bottom lip, teeth nipping, then tongue soothing the flesh.

She moaned, burying her hands in the principal's thick, dark hair. At the sound of her desire, Regina's tongue moved into her waiting mouth. They dueled for dominance, the blonde conceding to the pleasure the other woman lit within her.

Her date backed her into the sitting room without breaking their embrace. There, Regina's fingers found the zipper on her dress and tugged it down her back. At the feel of the older woman's hands on her hot skin, her knees gave out. She pulled the brunette down to the soft carpet.

"I'm going to undress you now," Regina said, without removing her lips from Emma's as she spoke.

Her tone left no room for questions, no chance to contest those words. Not that she would have.

The blonde submitted as the other woman inched the tight fabric down her figure. As air swirled over her newly naked skin, her arousal burned twice as strong.

Regina stopped just before she bared Emma's breasts.

"Don't stop. I want you to see me," she whispered.

The brunette responded by kissing her harder. Her mouth moved to Emma's jaw, to her prone throat, to her collarbone.

Her breathing quickened as the older woman's lips traveled ever closer to where her nipples threatened to burst with desire. Regina's tongue flicked against the place where her neckline met her cleavage. She squirmed under the touch, but the brunette locked her in place.

"Oh no, Miss Swan," the other woman rumbled. "Not yet. Right now, you turn over."

Emma couldn't complete the command quickly enough. She pressed her cheek into the carpet as her date moved behind her. One hand on the blonde's waist, Regina yanked her onto her knees. The other hand pushed at the back of her neck to keep her from rising.

"You look lovely bent over for me," the principal murmured.

Emma shivered as the material of the other woman's dress rubbed up against her clit. As Regina rocked her hips into her center, she moaned. The brunette jerked her dress up, exposing the quivering cheeks of her ass.

"This is mine."

"All yours," Emma whimpered.

"All yours…"

"Your Majesty," she finished.

Her almost lover rewarded her with a loud smack on her bottom. She cried out, biting her lip because this one was so much harder than those in the theatre.

 _Here, no one can hear me scream,_ she realized deliciously _._

As Regina's hips surged against her center once more, her excitement tripled. She ground back against the brunette's dress as another spanking landed heavily on her exposed flesh.

"Yes," she whispered, "oh god, yes."

The corners of her vision blurred from her coming orgasm. Fuck, she was going to get there without Regina ever laying a hand between her legs. Her body tensed, preparing to tumble over the edge.

But the other woman released her.

"Not yet, Miss Swan," the brunette said as she pushed Emma's dress up and over her shoulders. "You're not begging for it."

"I am begging. I will beg," she promised. "Just, please, touch me."

The older woman kissed her on her tailbone. "Like this?"

"Lower." She could feel her face turning red.

"Here?"

Regina dug her fingernails into her tender ass cheek.

"Lower."

The brunette's hair tickled between her legs as she ran her tongue along Emma's inner thigh. At the wet trail that she left, the blonde's hips rode the air, seeking relief.

"Higher."

She could barely manage the word her desire had consumed so much of her ability to think, to reason, to speak.

The other woman lay a single, unmoving digit against her clit.

She moaned as her body clawed for release. "God, Regina, please fuck me."

Like she'd spoken the magic words, the older woman cupped her sex, coating her hand in the blonde's wetness. She slid deeper between Emma's swollen folds as the younger woman writhed beneath her. Her fingertips danced just outside of clenching walls.

"Fuck me, Your Majesty. I'm begging," Emma cried.

Regina slipped a lone finger inside of the blonde so slowly that she lost her ability to wait and slammed her hips down. The brunette grabbed her ass, holding her in place as the digit hilted within her walls.

"I take it you want it hard?"

Emma nodded against the carpet, biting her lip, struggling to stay still.

"Tell me you want it."

"I want you to fuck me so hard, I won't walk straight."

The last word barely escaped her mouth when Regina tilted her for better access and pushed a second and third finger inside. She trembled as the fullness split her body.

Then, the older woman was fucking her without mercy, pounding her with those three fingers that reached all the way to her back wall.

The sudden, powerful strokes forced a moan from her throat. She anchored herself against the floor with clenched hands, her breasts rubbing the carpet. She tossed her head back as Regina's other hand snaked between her legs to toy with her clit.

It was torture, sweet, all-consuming torture to feel the orgasm building just out of reach.

"I-I need to come."

In response, the fingers inside her thrust harder against her cervix. She could sense the strain of the older woman's desire in those rapid movements. She knew how close Regina must be. The thought of the principal's ultimate pleasure almost undid her.

"Please, can I come?"

The other woman moaned. "Yes, come for me, Emma."

Her hips pumped once, twice, three more times down onto that skillful hand before she claimed her orgasm. Heat spiked through her body, welling up so strong and frantic within her that she feared she would lose herself forever.

The pleasure hit in wave after wave, and as Regina continued to fuel her release, she screamed for the neighbors to hear. She thought it would never end. Hoped it would never end. And then…she was falling, returning to earth, returning to the room where the woman of her dreams had just fucked her into next week.

She couldn't have been happier as she felt the rug burn on her knees and the hand bruising her hip.

She sagged on the carpet in the afterglow. The brunette's fingers slipped out of her, and she gasped as aftershocks of the orgasm assaulted her. With the last of her strength, she turned over to face her principal.

Arousal darkened Regina's eyes. The older woman's chest heaved as her gaze roved over Emma's naked, flushed figure. Immediately, the want for more sparked within her. She reached up and drew her dark-haired lover into her arms.

Their faces inches apart, Regina smiled. "Did you enjoy yourself, dear?"

"You could say that."

"Take your time in recovering." The other woman tightened her hold on her blonde package. "Then when you're ready, how about we adjourn to my bedroom? I do believe it's my turn."

 **XX**

 **Don't worry, lovelies. The date night fun is not over yet. More to come in the next chapter. As always, I'll forgo sleep to write more this busy week if people review, fav, and follow! XOXO**


	14. Chapter 14

**A continuation of date night unfolds with a naked Regina and more explicit lesbian sex (unedited, whoops). I apologize for the delay in posting. Life caught up with me at last. Thank you so much for your patience. You can expect another chapter within the next few days. However, I'll need your help with it...**

 **XX**

Chapter 14:

Emma arched beneath Regina, pressing her breasts against the fabric of her lover's dress, opening her legs to draw the other woman between them.

 _God, I came so fast._ Embarrassment darkened her already flushed cheeks.

But the brunette lying on top of her didn't seem to mind. Her pupils were two black holes, the irises eaten away to nothingness with arousal. Her breath came in ragged gasps from her nude mouth. Emma shuddered with the realization that the lipstick the older woman had worn now painted its claim on her bare skin.

"Regina," she whispered as her clit stood at attention once more.

A half-smirk danced on the brunette's face. "I take it you're ready."

Before Emma could embrace her in agreement, she had the blonde's hands pinned to the carpet above her head.

"Do you trust me?"

She studied the symmetrical planes of the other woman's face, the small scar on her upper lip, the infinitely human crow's feet around her eyes that could only come from laughing, and the dark brows and darker lashes that framed her hot gaze.

"With my life."

The words escaped her before she could think them through. But as they hovered in the air between them, she tasted their truth.

"Good." Regina sat up, releasing her. From beside the blonde, she collected her shawl. "Leave your things. Let's go to my bedroom."

She missed the older woman's warmth as she crawled naked to her feet and followed up the stairs. With each step she took, her heart beat faster. Would she be able to please her lover? Would she be enough?

They turned left at the top of the stairs. Regina nudged open the last door with her hip. Emma trailed inside where she watched the brunette coax to life a series of candles that decorated her dresser. As the flames struggled to dispel the shadows, she surveyed the rest of the space.

Half of her apartment could fit in this master bedroom, she realized.

She took in the sitting area where a fireplace angled between two walls, the doors that led off to an equally over-sized bathroom and what she assumed to be a closet, and the four-poster king bed complete with thick black curtains tied back to reveal the bedding.

Her mouth went dry as she stared at the black satin duvet, the mountain of pillows, and the slotted headboard that Regina had mentioned before.

"Do you like what you see?" the brunette asked, coming over to stand just near enough that Emma yearned for the press of their skin.

She nodded.

"The curtains muffle sound." The principal spoke as casually as if she were discussing the weather. "However, I haven't had much opportunity here to try them out."

She recovered enough of her wit to respond. "Let's remedy that."

"Yes." Regina favored her with a smile. "Now, are you ready to be tied up, Miss Swan?"

Her ass still smarted from the older woman's spanking. Her knees ached with rug burn. She'd never imagined herself actually submitting to her lover's will, but the orgasm doing so had earned her remained fresh in her memory.

"If that will please you, Your Majesty," she said as wetness trickled down her inner thigh.

The smile grew on plump, hungry lips.

Regina circled her like a predator, snapping the shawl she'd used to wipe Emma's tears. The silk bound the blonde's wrists. She felt the shawl wrap around her arms clear up to her elbows, forcing her shoulders back and chest out almost painfully.

"Very nice," the brunette drawled as she rounded Emma once more. She leaned forward and laved one tender nipple with the flat of her tongue. "You have the finest breasts I've ever seen."

Emma whimpered, out of her element but desperate for more.

"Have you used a safe word before?"

She found a bit of herself as she responded. "Of course. Do you think I'm a virgin or something?"

Regina chuckled. "You're clearly no virgin. Well then, what word would you like to be ours?"

 _Ours._

Her body thrummed pleasurably as she thought about something belonging only to the two of them.

"Apples," she said.

"That seems a bit obvious." The older woman cupped one of Emma's breasts, fingertips teasing the areola, ignoring the nipple that begged for her. "I think you can do better."

She did her best to keep from wiggling in Regina's grasp. "Fine," she gasped. "Apple _sauce_."

Her principal raised an eyebrow. "Applesauce?"

"Yeah, because that's what I'm about to turn you into."

Despite her bonds, she closed the space between them and found her lover's waiting mouth. She invaded with her tongue, swallowing the other woman's moans.

"Emma," the brunette cried when they parted for air. "What are you—?"

She captured the older woman's tongue between her teeth, gently nipping before she sucked hard at the length of muscle. Regina went limp. Her mouth opened, and a ragged groan tore from her throat. "Fuck."

The heat between her legs intensified at the profanity.

She pulled back a half-inch. "What would you like me to do for you, Your Majesty?"

Her boss's hazy gaze cleared at the blonde's subservient tone. She lifted a hand and gripped Emma's hair, forcing her head to the zipper on the side of her dress.

"Undress me."

Needing no further encouragement, she took the small bit of metal between her teeth. She tugged it down Regina's glorious curves, stopping to kiss each perfect piece of olive flesh that she revealed. The zipper arched over the brunette's hip before the dress fell open between her legs.

On her knees now, she bathed the inside of the older woman's pelvis with her tongue over and over, reveling in the sweet and salt taste of the sweat that had formed there. She longed to steady Regina's trembling body against hers, but her bound arms stole that luxury.

"Very good," the brunette said, breathless, as she took a step back from Emma's ministrations.

She gazed up, mouth watering, at the half-naked form of the woman in a thong who stood in front of her. God, Regina was beautiful, her body an interplay of shadows and orange light. She connected curves with muscle, softness with strength, dominance with the weakness of desire.

"Don't just sit there," her lover said, hand tangling in the blonde's curls once more. "You're not done yet."

She rose obediently, kissing up the other woman's toned stomach, stopping to run her tongue across the underside of Regina's thin black bra. The weight of her lover's breasts lay full and heavy against her lips. She drew her mouth up the lace to where the older woman's hard nipples pushed up against the fabric.

"Fuck," Regina moaned again, grip tightening on Emma's hair, as the blonde claimed the puckered flesh and lace.

She sucked hard, teeth scraping dark nipple and areola, aware of how the brunette's body bent beneath her mouth. She could have stayed with that first breast for the rest of the night, but the other woman tugged her away to lavish the same attention on its neighbor.

She lapped at the hardness she found waiting for her, then slipped her tongue beneath the fabric. She nested between lace and soft flesh, breathing in the spicy scent of perfume and the salt of her sweat. Regina tasted like the crust of an apple pie, Emma thought dimly, as she worked the other woman into another round of moans. She wondered what she would taste like below.

Her own groan mingled with those of her lover. Somehow, she tore herself away from the older woman's chest, kissed up her clavicle to the hollow of her throat, then took the dress between her teeth. She inched the material off Regina's shoulders, then down the muscles in her arms.

"You're very good at this," the brunette gasped when the dress puddled at her feet. "You've done it before?"

She shook her head, biting the straps of the other woman's bra and savagely pulling at them until Regina slipped her arms through and the bra lay at her waist. She stared at her principal's bared chest, mouth watering at the dark areolas, which were larger than her own, and the even darker nipples.

"Put your mouth on me again, Miss Swan," her boss commanded.

Moaning, she rushed to obey. She kissed the underside of the naked swell of skin, moved her tongue to circle the place where olive met darker flesh. She teased the brunette until Regina took hold of her jaw and forced her lips to close over one pebbled nipple.

As she pulled at the hardness, she watched her lover raise a hand to pinch her other nipple. The sight of Regina pleasing herself undid her. She rocked her hips as her clit throbbed between her legs. She cried out against the brunette's soft skin, moving her mouth to cover the older woman's fingers. She sucked on fingertips, flicked her tongue over the rock hard pucker of flesh. They tangled together until Emma forgot where she ended and Regina began.

They moaned together, stumbling back until her lover's legs hit the edge of the bed and gave out beneath her. Emma tried to right herself, but with her arms tied behind her, she fell helpless onto Regina's stomach.

A low laugh bubbled from the brunette's throat. She stroked the blonde's hair as Emma struggled.

"It's no use, little Swan. You're caught in my web now."

Her heart rate spiked as the older woman moved out from under her to stand behind her.

"What are you doing?" she asked against the satin duvet.

A hand caressed her ass cheek. Aside from that, there came no further response. She tensed pleasantly, expecting to be spanked. Instead, she heard the rustle of fabric, and the hand pressed down harder against her.

"Are you…" She licked her lips. "…taking off your thong?"

"Why don't you decide for yourself?"

Her lover kicked apart her legs before leaning against her. She felt the whisper of well-groomed pubic hair on her behind. The other woman raised one leg, pressing her knee next to the side of Emma's body. She whimpered as the brunette lowered herself onto the rise of her ass.

God, Regina was _sopping._

She couldn't help rolling her hips underneath her lover as wet heat ground down onto her rounded flesh. As they rocked together, Regina let out a long, low groan that shook the blonde to her core. Her eyes squeezed shut as her own desire throbbed so hard within her that she worried she might fragment from it.

"Do you like this?" Regina asked as she moved faster, voice broken between gasps.

She moaned in response, twitching her hips faster, light-headed from the need to be touched.

As if her lover read her mind, she felt fingers between her legs.

"Regina," she cried as the brunette's digits curled without warning inside her.

The sound of her name on the blonde's lips dragged a cry from the other woman's throat. She pumped into Emma, thumb swiping against the clit that stood swollen and sharp for her. She rode the blonde's ass, fucking the younger woman without mercy.

Emma bucked into the hand within her, rolled her bottom up against the heat of Regina's arousal. The wetness coated her. She could smell the older woman's desire clinging to the air in the room, mingling with her own.

 _God_ , the smell, that sound of her lover nearing her peak, brought her back to the edge. Her walls clenched tight around the fingers inside her, dragging them in deeper.

 _Wait,_ she begged her rebellious body, _wait for her to come first._

But the corners of her vision danced with stars. All the blood in her body rushed between her legs. She arched up against the satin bed, an ear-shattering cry building in her throat.

She could feel Regina shuddering atop her. The older woman's hand clamped down on her bound arms, bending them painfully. Her hips bucked against Emma's prone form.

"I'm going to come," the brunette rumbled.

"Please," Emma groaned. "Please, I want you to come all over me."

The older woman's fingernails dragged across the blonde's skin. The hand inside thrust harder. Her wet heat jerked on Emma's ass, thrusting more and more erratically.

Emma did her best to hold back her orgasm, but her legs shook. Whimpers cascaded from her throat.

"Please," she begged as the first wave of pleasure washed over her.

At the sound of her desperation, Regina let loose a strangled cry. Her body rocked faster on top of the blonde, fingers hilting deep within her.

"Emma," the older woman moaned as her hips pressed as close as they possibly could. "Oh god, I'm coming."

She felt the rush of wetness against her behind, felt Regina go stiff, and the combination of it and the cry of her name sent her tumbling into her own orgasm. Her walls clamped onto the hand within her, and she bucked with the pleasure that overtook her.

"Regina," she screamed.

The waves refused to abate within her, so she bathed in the force of them until she forgot her name, forgot who she was, forgot everything except for the woman riding on top of her. When at last, her lover fell onto her body, the unending torrent retreated.

She lay gasping on the bed, stunned stupid by the best orgasm of her life.

"Fuck," Regina whispered, breath tickling Emma's ear as she continued to thrust lazily against the younger woman.

She could only nod in response.

The brunette kissed the sensitive flesh of her neck, kissed behind her ear. "How are you?"

"Well." The other woman's movements gave her no time to recover before heat flared to life within her once more. "I-I think I want to do it again."

Regina chuckled. She squeezed Emma's ass. "Me too."

"Right now?" She longed for a taste of the wetness that Regina had smeared all over her.

"In a minute. You count the seconds for us."

Emma closed her eyes, relishing in the feel of her lover's body half on top of her, happy that Regina was finally untying her sore arms.

 _Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight…_

 **XX**

 **I cannot thank you all enough for the reviews, favs, and follows! Please keep them coming! I hope this chapter was as fun for you to read as it was for me to write.**

 **I NEED YOUR HELP WITH THE NEXT CHAPTER...I'm unsure if I should write another sex scene or if we should skip to tomorrow morning. If you could leave your preference in a review, that would be incredible. I'll take them into full consideration before I post the next chapter. XOXO**


	15. Chapter 15

**A HUGE thank you to all of you who left reviews on the last chapter! You helped me decide the direction for this one, which I hope has a bit of everyone's desires...more smut, some sweetness, some past information revealed, some piano playing, and MORE (all unedited because I just wanted to get the chapter up).**

 **In other news, I finished my last day of work before I start my summer schedule in a month, so expect more frequent updates until June! As always, reviews, favs, and follows inspire me to write ten times faster, so PLEASE keep them coming!**

 **XX**

Chapter 15

Sunlight filtered through Emma's eyelashes as she woke. She blinked, raising her hands to wipe away sleep, and realized she lay in a strange room in a strange bed.

"Regina," she breathed.

The night flooded back—their rapid undress, the soreness from the spankings, the brunette riding her ass, and her own all-consuming orgasms. She gasped at the memory, heat spreading in her abdomen once more.

She rolled over under the satin duvet, searching for her lover. But the space beside her sat empty. Still naked, she pushed back the covers and rose to her knees.

 _I must have fallen asleep when I was counting backwards._

She cursed her lack of stamina.

 _Guess this means I need to start having a_ lot _more sex if my body is going to keep up with my imagination._

Her fingers itched to clamp onto her principal's thighs, spread those muscular legs, and have her for breakfast. That thought had her up and moving. After a quick trip to the bathroom, she all but bounded down the staircase to find the object of her desire.

The smell of melted chocolate hit her halfway down the steps. Her stomach loosed its hunger mating call, and she double-timed it into the sun-drenched kitchen.

She found Regina bent over the lower of the two ovens molded in next to the industrial-sized stove. She registered the brunette withdrawing a cake that joined the half dozen already resting on the island, but the majority of her attention focused in on the itty-bitty running shorts that barely covered her lover's shapely behind.

"Good morning to me," she said.

The other woman jumped, nearly dropping the piping hot glass pan, before whirling around.

"Emma." Her bourbon gaze raked the blonde's nude body as she deposited the cake next to all the others. "Well, it's a good thing Henry isn't home."

"Are you expecting him soon?"

"Not until this afternoon, but—"

"Good." She cut the older woman off, rounded the island, and yanked Regina into a hard kiss.

She expected the brunette to yield to her mouth, to meld against her body, but the principal remained stiff as a board in her arms.

"Ooookay." She pulled back in confusion.

Regina picked up a knife from the counter.

"So you're not a morning person," she said, stepping even further away. "That's fine. We can work through this without violence."

Her lover rolled her eyes. "Don't be silly. Now sit down. I need you to try the cakes, so I can perfect the recipe for Henry's birthday party next week."

Despite the tiny shorts that showed off the firm curve of her ass and the tight, razorback tank she wore, she radiated the authoritative Dr. Mills aura that Emma had met her first day at Storybrooke Prep. She sat on one of the island's stools without arguing.

"Good girl." Her boss dropped a full plate in front of her.

She picked up her fork. "This reminds me of that scene from _Matilda_. You know the one where that poor fat kid eats chocolate cake until he's almost sick?"

"Less talking, more eating," the brunette replied, but she softened her words with a peck against Emma's cheek.

Even that fleeting touch sent fire through her veins. She clenched her legs together as moisture pooled between them. She longed to grab the waistband of her lover's shorts and try that good morning kiss again. Instead, she shoved a large bite into her mouth.

"It's good," she said, chewing, as the rich and slightly bitter taste of dark chocolate assaulted her tongue.

"That one doesn't have sugar," Regina responded. "I'm afraid it won't be sweet enough for Henry."

She swallowed and tried the next. "This one's sweeter."

"Can you taste the oats? I'm afraid he'll notice the texture is off."

"Yeah." She could detect the thicker consistency, but only just. "They're both good, like bakery-quality good. I'm sure Henry would be happy with either."

She watched Regina madly whip up a flax egg on the counter instead of commenting. She shrugged fondly at the control freak she was falling for and continued her taste tests.

Each cake was better than the last, and she ate with abandon. Soon her stomach sat distended in her lap, and she groaned when Regina forced yet another piece at her.

"I can't do it. You're going to kill me."

"It's just chocolate, Miss Swan," the older woman argued, but upon seeing the slightly nauseated expression on the blonde's face, she relented. "Oh all right. Enough for now."

"How many of these are you going to make?" Emma asked. "Every surface in this damn kitchen is covered in cake."

"It has to be perfect," Regina muttered, wiping her flour-covered hands on a stray dishrag.

"I don't know what a perfect chocolate cake for a thirteen-year-old's birthday party tastes like, but—" Emma swirled her finger around the many options before pointing at the fourth one she'd tasted. "—I think the one with applesauce and agave nectar wins my vote."

"You just like that one because it contains our safe word."

She shrugged, feeling her chest flush. "Hey, I'm entitled to my opinion on what constitutes the best ingredients."

Regina smiled. "I appreciate your help with this."

At last, the brunette's steel walls came down, and she sidled up beside the blonde. Emma lifted a chocolate heavy arm and wrapped it around the other woman. As her lover leaned into her, she breathed in the rich perfume of apple spice.

"You have cake all over your face," Regina whispered, her pupils dilating as she gazed at the younger woman.

"Then you'd better lick it off."

She felt the skilled flick of her principal's tongue against her mouth. The touch ignited such desire within her that she writhed on the stool, pressing her sex onto the unforgiving wooden surface. Teeth scrapped her lip before Regina tugged her into an open-mouthed kiss.

She gasped at the heat that passed between them. Her hands slid down to the older woman's perfect rear, urging her closer so their breasts melded together, Emma's nipples scraping the fabric of the razorback tank.

"You look so sexy eating my cooking," Regina murmured as her fingers tightened in blonde locks.

Emma smiled at the domesticity of that statement before her lover pulled her head back sharply, exposing her neck. She moaned as the brunette's tongue and teeth nipped and sucked down the length of her flesh.

"Do you think you could come again?" the other woman asked, voice rumbling against her trachea.

She marveled at the vulnerability of her position before answering, marveled at Regina's ability to render her pliant and boneless when her waking fantasies had been of reclaiming the power she'd given over the night before.

"Yes," she said.

She sensed the wicked smile on her lover's mouth, rather than saw it.

"Then it's a pity that wasn't what I had in mind for you."

She whimpered when the older woman let her go.

"Come with me, Miss Swan."

Regina turned and exited the kitchen without waiting to see if the blonde would follow. She couldn't vacate the stool fast enough, her clit throbbing despite her principal's threat that there would be no release for her.

They passed into the room behind the staircase. Highlighted under a skylight sprawled a grand piano. The brunette sank into the couch opposite it with the predatory grace of a panther.

Emma remained in the shadows, eyes on the ivory piano, then on her lover.

"What's this?" she asked when she found her voice.

"You play the guitar, yes? Do you also play the piano?"

She nodded, feeling her desire trickle away.

"I want you to play for me."

"Do you think you'll always get what you want?"

Sure, the night before she'd wanted to find the music in her soul that she'd lost, but that moment had been full of promise and night sky—not like now when she was commanded to play naked in broad daylight.

Instead of answering, Regina spread her thighs. Her hand went to the seam of her shorts. Emma watched as her lover rounded her hidden clit, her scarlet mouth opening in a perfect O.

"What are you doing?" she growled.

"I'm thinking of you playing for me, then rising, and coming over here to bury that pretty face of yours between my legs." The other woman grinned, eyeteeth glinting wickedly. "But you'd better hurry or else I'll climax all on my own."

"I-I haven't played in years."

"I'm not looking for Mozart, but I am curious to see what other talents your fingers hold."

She studied the powerful muscles flexing in Regina's calves, traced her gaze up to her petite waist, to the delicious tease of her cleavage. She watched the tendons flex in the brunette's slim neck and her plump lips go slack with arousal.

She was walking to the piano before she could decide whether or not she liked this game.

Her wetness spread on the bench as she adjusted her seat. She cupped the ivory keys with her fingers, trying to breathe past her racing heart, past her churning stomach. She pictured the older woman washing her back with a potent stare and began to play in C major.

Emma hadn't meant for the main theme of Once to fall from her fingertips, but Falling Slowly came from within her as though she birthed it.

Then midway through she panicked because the notes failed her. Just as she thought to give up, the swell of Regina's voice joined her, and she remembered. She lowered her foot back onto the cold petal and played to the end. As the last sounds trailed into nothingness, she pulled back and stared at the black and white keys.

It was over.

She'd survived her first time playing since she'd lost Kathryn.

She swallowed the sob that rose in her throat without identifying whether it was a release of her sadness or more of the same.

"That was stunning," Regina said, her voice husky. " _You're_ stunning."

"Do I have to play more?"

"Not if you don't want to."

"Not right now." She rose, pushing the bench back under the piano and shuffled over to the couch.

She stood in front of the brunette, unsure if she should sit or run. But when her lover took her wrist and tugged her forward, she sank down beside the other woman. Their eyes locked in the sunlight. Emma noticed a freckle in the bourbon gaze that held hers that she'd not seen before.

"Are you all right?" Regina asked.

Slowly, she nodded.

"Penny for your thoughts."

And there were a million of them pressing up against Emma's throat, dying to be spilled into the older woman's lap—Kathryn, music, Boston, all of her past, all of her childhood, everything that had formed her into the screwed up and naked human that she was today. But as comfortable as she felt without clothes on her skin, she felt equally disquieted by the thought of showing her bare soul.

She chose her words with care. "The last time I played music, I was in a relationship. When it ended, it was very painful for me. I tried to give up everything that reminded me of her."

She expected more of a reaction, but Regina stayed silent, encouraging her to go on.

"I came to Storybrooke after things ended. I lived off checks from our music for awhile, but when they dwindled, I decided to try my hand at teaching."

"You sold your music?"

"Our songs, yeah. We wrote originals. But when I lost Kathryn, I lost my muse."

Her hand went up to her mouth, as if it could take back the name that she uttered.

"Kathryn?" Regina asked. "Is that the name of your ex?"

"Yeah."

"Do you miss her?"

She detected something in the other woman's stare, but couldn't put a finger on the exact emotion.

"It's complicated." She shrugged. "But I've missed playing. Thank you for encouraging me to do it again."

Regina nodded stiffly and crossed one leg over the other.

"Is everything okay?" Emma asked.

The brunette's brow furrowed. She sat forward, and the blonde worried for a split second that the older woman would leave her on the couch alone.

"Are you over her?"

"Over Kathryn?"

"Yes."

She thought about the drive through blinding rain back to Boston the week after she'd moved. She remembered taking the stairs two at a time up to the apartment she'd shared with her ex. She'd cursed herself for moving so slowly, as if she were in a dream or trapped in a sinkhole.

When she'd thrown open the door at last, she'd been too late.

She knew the moment she stepped through the doorway that the air felt wrong, that the rooms were too silent. And when she'd stumbled into the bathroom…

"Emma."

Strong hands gripped her arms, shaking her back into the present. She met her lover's gaze through watery eyes.

 _I will not cry. I will not cry. Not this time._

"No," she managed to choke out, "I'm not over her. I don't know how to get over her. I don't know how you get over someone when you never made things right."

"So you do still love her?"

She nodded, then shook her head. "I don't know, Regina. She's dead."


	16. Chapter 16

**I can't apologize enough for the lateness of this chapter. I flew home for break (and even started the sex scene between two strangers on the plane) and got really, REALLY sick. I don't know if I had food poisoning or a bug, but I haven't been able to move without being nauseated, let alone look at a computer screen. Today, I more or less have crawled out of my grave to finish this chapter, so I hope you enjoy it.**

 **Caution: Lesbian sex and adorable fluff ahead. Read if you like that sort of thing.**

 **Please review, fav, and follow if you want more! I came back to life solely because of my readers. :)**

 **XX**

Chapter 16:

 _Mistake_ , Emma's mind screamed as the two women stared at one another on the couch. _Why did you tell her about Kathryn? You don't tell_ any _one_ any _thing. That's how you get hurt._

She could see the other woman pulling back, her spine stiffening.

 _It was too much to soon. Is she going to throw me out?_

She wished she could take back the word vomit, take back playing the piano, take back last night that left her so stupid and vulnerable and hopeful that the brunette might want to know her on a level other than skin deep.

Regina rose from the couch. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched them.

Heart plummeting like a bird with broken wings, Emma curled up to hide her nakedness. "I'm sorry, 'Gina," she mumbled. "Didn't mean to say all that. Just forget about it."

"What did you call me?"

She glanced up as she caught the hoarseness in the older woman's throat. "Uh, I don't know? Regina?"

"You said Gina," the other woman corrected. "That's what my brother used to call me."

"I didn't know you have a brother."

She watched her lover pace back and forth across the eggshell colored rug.

"I…did." Regina ceased her movements and stood in front of Emma, twisting her hands. "I'm sorry that you lost someone so near and dear to your heart."

The awkwardness between them could have been sliced apart and served like pie. Still, Emma found herself tracing every sharp line and curve that constructed the brunette into the goddess she was. And she would've had to be blind to miss the sorrow that crossed Regina's beautiful face. That sorrow. She could taste it, it felt so familiar and real to her.

"How did he die?" she asked quietly.

Her lover's eyes jumped to hers. She saw the older woman tense, fight or flight playing across her features.

"You don't talk about it much?"

"The past is best left in the past," Regina replied curtly. "You would do well to remember that, yourself."

"Maybe it's better left there, but it doesn't always stay put."

The brunette shocked her with a loud and ugly laugh. "Well, that's truer than you could ever know, Miss Swan."

Several more seconds passed before the other woman relaxed and rejoined Emma on the couch.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Regina asked.

"With Kathryn?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about what happened with your brother?"

"No."

Emma smiled softly. "Neither do I."

"Well, that was probably enough confession to last two closed off human beings for some time, am I right?" Regina said, laughing again.

"Definitely." She found the particles of bravery she still possessed and took her lover's busily twisting hands within her own. "Do you have anything else that you need help with for Henry's party?"

"Now that the romantic mood has been officially and violently demolished?"

"Yep. You're welcome."

"As a matter of fact—" Regina helped her up. "—I could use your assistance with the invitations."

They left the room with the piano behind, fingers still entwined. The older woman settled Emma with a mug of cinnamon coffee, a bundle of envelopes, and Star Wars invites in the front room.

She stared at the stamps for a long minute, marveling that she hadn't been asked to leave, that the other woman revealed such an intimate detail about her own life, that death had shaped both of them into who they were today.

She wanted to know more. Everything. She wanted to share more. Not now, but at some point when they were both ready.

She reached for the first invitation.

"You rented out the _entire_ Great Wolf Lodge for an afternoon?" she exclaimed as she read the text.

"My parents did," Regina replied as she padded back from covering the cakes to where Emma sat, reading glasses perched on her nose.

"Are they insane? I don't even remember my thirteenth birthday."

 _Probably because whichever foster home had me at the time spent the money from the system on booze and cigarettes._

Regina shrugged. "It's a huge milestone. I'll officially have a surly teenager on my hands as of next Saturday. Besides, if they want to give that to him as their present, how could I deny them?"

A hint of an affectionate smile kissed the other woman's plump lips. Emma's heart swelled at the expression.

"He's a good kid. If he were my son, I'd want to spoil him, too," she admitted.

Regina plucked one of the invites and dangled it in front of the blonde.

"What?" she asked.

"For you. We'd both like it if you came."

"You would?" Her already enlarged heart threatened to explode with joy.

"You don't even have to get him a present. Or I could pick out something for you."

"Oh, I don't think so." She gave a secretive grin. "I've already had some time to think over what I'm getting him. Last week, he spilled that it was his birthday, remember?"

"I-I do. Well, what did you decide on?"

She enjoyed the shameless curiosity on the other woman's face. She wondered if any of Regina's other lovers had ever cared for Henry the way she was growing to.

"That's for me to know and you to find out," she said.

"And I think I know the proper method of discovery."

Regina pounced on her, glasses sliding onto Emma's chest. Not bothering to move them to keep the spectacles from being crushed, the brunette captured the younger woman's surprised gasp in a furious kiss. Her teeth tugged at the blonde's lower lip until Emma tasted copper.

 _So this is how I get Regina's motor running? Silly little secrets?_

She bit back, pulling the other woman's tongue into the den of her mouth. Desire burst like fireworks within her at the small groan that crested from the principal's throat. She sucked harder, but her lover escaped her ministrations. Regina left love bites down the thick tendon in Emma's neck, dropping wet kisses on her bare sternum and erect nipples before moving further down.

She moaned as the soft swirl of Regina's hair danced over her breasts and down her taut stomach. One of her hands threaded into thick, dark chocolate locks, while the other clenched the throw pillow behind her head.

"Are you ready to tell me yet?" the older woman asked as she dipped her tongue into Emma's bellybutton.

The warmth of that touch spread in waves through the rest of her body. Her clit went stiff, begging for that same heat to find it.

"A-absolutely not."

"Then I suppose I shall have to tease you further."

The older woman dragged cropped fingernails in a slow arc across Emma's side and over her hip, stopping when she reached the apex of the blonde's thighs.

 _Magic fingers,_ Emma thought dimly as her legs fell open.

Trembling, she watched the lines of that plump mouth press kisses down to the apex of her thighs. When the other woman's fingertip found her sex, she moaned louder, yanking the pillow out from behind her head to hold it over her face.

"No," Regina swatted it away. "I want to hear you."

She could form no words of resistance as her lover's lips closed over her aching clit for the first time.

Heat consumed her. Her already erect bud swelled impossibly to meet that perfect mouth. She could feel her wetness making trails onto the couch below, taking bits of her soul with it.

 _Fuck,_ she thought, dizzied, _this woman owns me._

Her hips jerked in yearning. At Regina's response to suck softly at her length, she cried out. Already, she hovered on the edge of release, her body so desperate for it that her entire soul shook within the hands held her.

"Regina," she moaned as the brunette's tongue plunged lower and lower until it buried within clamped walls.

Her lover's tongue flicked up, finding the patch of rough velvet at her opening before slipping deep inside. The sensation of the other woman moving within her ignited a volcano within Emma's body. Her stiff clit twitched, and she gripped the other woman's hair to drag her back up to soothe the fire.

"I don't think so," Regina said, removing her mussed, glistening mouth from between Emma's legs. "Not until you spill your little secret."

At the sight of her principal covered in her desire, she fought the overwhelming urge to palm herself off.

"It's—"

She prepared to give in when the ring of a phone filtered in from the kitchen.

They let the sound pass between them—once, twice, three, and then four times before the call went to voicemail.

A smirk tickled Regina's cheeks, but then the phone rang again. "Damn. Maybe I should get that."

As the brunette rose to her knees, Emma captured her between powerful thighs, placed her hands on Regina's toned shoulders, and forced the other woman back to her former position.

"You can check it when you're done."

Surprised bourbon eyes analyzed hers, then traveled over the hills and valleys of Emma's body. When Regina looked at her again, her breath came messy with arousal, her eyes like two black stones.

"Fine, Miss Swan. But you will pay for commanding me later."

 _Anything,_ Emma thought. She would do anything at some undefined time and place if it meant orgasming against such a beautiful face.

Regina's tongue took her once more, running from clenching slit up to where the hard, vulnerable bud begged for attention. She laved it first with fast, almost angry strokes, demanding the blonde's peak the way she demanded everything.

At the determination in the other woman's movement, Emma's back arched off the couch, her mouth open wordlessly. Her entire body reduced to where Regina's mouth controlled her. As the tidal wave built inside her, she whimpered, the noise drawing into a groan, then into a tattered growl. She would give this woman what she wanted and more.

She stiffened to a point, ready to be thrown into blissful oblivion.

"Fuck," she cried, "I'm so close."

Her lover shifted, hand brushing Emma's folds.

But she reached down and stopped the other woman before she could enter. "No. Suck me off."

She watched a shiver pass down Regina's spine, watched the brunette's legs open a bit more as though she thought to press her sex to the couch.

"And don't even think about coming before me."

Regina made a noise, but obeyed, her apple ass swaying in the air as her lips pulled at Emma's clit in earnest.

Her nails sank into the brunette's skin, and she rocked her body against that plump, beautiful mouth. The sense of control, of finally dominating the woman who'd spanked her and rode her the night before made her breath feverish and vision hazy.

She closed her eyes, head falling back, as Regina took her from tip to hilt and back. Again and again the mouth and tongue worked at her. She moaned, seeing stars, dying to implode.

An answering moan vibrated between her legs. Her eyelids flew open, and she caught Regina's hooded gaze locked on her.

 _Come for me_ , the other woman's eyes ordered. _Now._

The command was too much to take. One more stroke of that tongue, then two, and…

She let go as a sharp spear of pleasure rocketed through her body.

"I'm coming."

Regina sucked hard, milked her. Her flicking tongue heightened sensations until Emma was crying out senselessly. She writhed in her lover's arms, coming apart in ribbons from seam to soul, while the demand of the other woman's mouth drew out an endless sea of release.

 _I'm going to come forever_ , Emma thought madly. _I'm going to forget everything except for this woman's mouth._

Just as she began to fracture into thousands of irreparable pieces, Regina freed her.

She fell back into her body from some foreign shore, suddenly aware of the damp couch beneath her, conscious of the hands bruising her behind. As Regina looked up from between her legs, Emma caressed the line of other woman's sharp cheekbone with a single fingertip. Then she dropped like a coin, spent.

A chuckle traveled up from the apex of her thighs. "I didn't anticipate actually allowing you to come, but you were quite…persuasive."

Regina's tongue swept along her over-sensitized flesh, causing her to whine. But her lover merely cleaned her, kissed her almost reverently. Then a quiet snarl met Emma's ears.

"You taste even better straight from the source, instead of just off my fingers. I think I could get drunk off you."

Emma smiled, too emptied to remember words, though what she really wanted to say was that this had officially been the best orgasm of her life.

Instead, her sleepy gaze fluttered to the windows where bright light washed over their tangled bodies. She watched flakes of white tumble from the grey expanse above, too stupefied to understand what was happening.

"Hey Regina," she said finally, "it's snowing."


	17. Chapter 17

**New chapter! Please review, fav, and follow for more!**

 **XX**

Chapter 17:

"Snow?" Regina all but jumped out from between Emma's legs. " We haven't had a snow this early in the year for awhile."

Emma sat up, watching her lover race from where they lay into the kitchen where the other woman jabbed at her cell phone and swore.

"What's wrong?" she asked, not ready for the mood to break.

The brunette reemerged, and tension crackled like static around her. "That was my mother calling. My parents can't stand the snow, never could. She's on her way over before the storm rolls in."

At the mention of the faceless, ominous woman, a wave of something close to terror swept through Emma's body, washing away the last of her afterglow.

"With Henry?" she asked.

Regina gave one terse nod.

"And how long ago did they call?"

"Emma, they'll be here at any minute, and you can't be here like this when they show up."

She was standing, planning to agree, just as the doorbell rang.

"Fuck," Regina snapped, her spine rigid.

"What do you want me to do?" Emma asked.

"Go upstairs. In the left corner of my closet, you'll find some sweats. I would never let Mother see me in them, so she won't recognize them as mine. But—" Regina crossed to the front door. "For God's sake, Emma, just stay put up there until she's gone. I'd rather spare us all the pain than have the two of you meet."

She wondered about that last statement, wondered if Regina would ever plan to tell her folks if things grew official between them. But she supposed that conversation idled a long, long way down a road she wasn't sure existed.

She turned into the bedroom as she heard Regina exclaim, "Hello, Henry." Then with marked less enthusiasm, "Mother."

She moved through the dim bedroom, touching one cool bedpost as she went. Her eyes traveled to the bed—the corners of the sheet tucked in and wrinkles smoothed on the brunette's side, the covers haphazard on hers.

She found the light to the closet and stepped inside. The space was larger than her bathroom, and the oversized tub in Emma's apartment had been half the appeal.

 _I couldn't imagine having this much to wear. How does Regina remember where anything is?_

But the older woman—or perhaps a stylist—had categorized the rows and racks, one corner filled with white blouses, one expanse lined with the expertly tailored suits that carried the brunette so well, one wall devoted to heels so tall and sharp they could bring down the world.

Emma pawed through designer labels and fine fabric, searching. The sweats hid beneath a basket of belts and looked as if they hadn't seen sunlight for quite some time.

She tugged them on, sniffing at her armpit and grimacing. What she really needed was a shower, not to stew in the smaller woman's clothing, which rode high on her ankles and wrists.

 _Where are my clothes from last night?_

As an afterthought, she pleated her hair in the mirror, pleased that part of her appeared presentable. Hearing no voices from below, she left the bedroom in hopes of seeing Henry and gaining permission from his mother to shower at long last.

Her toe hovered at the top step.

"…didn't forget that the Fall Charity Masquerade is this Thursday. Have you a sitter for that night?"

A voice Emma didn't recognize filtered up to her ears, and she froze.

"Can I come this year, Grammie?"

"Perhaps next year, Henry. You'll be a young man then."

"I haven't forgotten, Mother."

 _Regina sounds tired,_ Emma thought, _and not the good kind of tired from making love all night. Tired like she's got nothing left to give._

"Very well. Would you care to show me the gown you've chosen for the event? We can't have you showing up in a monstrosity like that Olsen original you wore last year."

"Wait—" Regina started, but a stunning, older woman appeared at the bottom of the staircase.

In the shadows, Emma panicked. She went to back up and tripped over her feet. She banged into the wall and fell hard on her backside.

"What was _that_?"

"Mother, please—"

Before the brunette could dig the hole any deeper, Emma took a deep breath and made her decision.

She righted herself. Head held high, she descended the steps.

"Hello," she said when she reached the bottom, "My name's Emma."

She watched the older woman who looked so much like her lover gape.

The infamous Cora Mills wore a string of black pearls and matching earrings. The material of her cream-colored shirt seemed so soft it might fade to clouds at the slightest touch.

 _She's had plastic surgery,_ Emma noted as she took in the woman's wrinkle-free forehead and slender neck.

Their eyes held.

While Cora's were a lighter shade of brown, they were ten times colder, harder, more brittle than Regina's, like she would break if someone stared at her for too long—or like she would break the one staring.

Emma lost the battle of wills, dropped her gaze, and extended her hand.

Cora raised a brow, the gesture a familiar one to the blonde, but the older woman refused to shake.

"Regina, who is this?" she enunciated.

But it was Henry, not Emma's lover, who shattered the strain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, toppling into her for a hug.

"Hey, kid." She tousled his hair, and the strands were wet and icy on her palm. She pinched his reddened ear. "You forget your hat?"

He nodded, beaming. "Wanna go sledding today or something?"

Before she could respond, Regina stepped into the circle. "I'm sure Emma has grading to complete today, Henry. Mother, this is Miss Swan. She is a teacher friend of mine. She's been helping me organize Henry's birthday party."

The brunette gestured to the invitations strewn across the sitting room coffee table to prove her point. Emma narrowed her eyes as her lover did so, a sudden inkling itching at the back of her thoughts.

 _Is Regina out to her family?_

"That's right," she said, steeling herself to meet Cora's chilly stare once more. "I'm subbing at Storybrooke Prep for Miss Blanchard, while she's out on maternity leave."

She saw the warning on Regina's face too late to stop her words.

"Very interesting," Cora said. She glanced from Emma to her daughter and back again, a smile lifting her lips but leaving her eyes dead. "I'm sure Regina has prepared a full report on you. I will look forward to going over every detail with the Board."

The older woman swept her gaze from Emma's bare feet up over her ratty sweats, and at the lazer-like intensity of the scrutiny, chills broke out on the blonde's skin.

"You _do_ realize we hold the highest standards possible when it comes to employment at Storybrooke Preparatory Academy. You must be something exceptional to have slipped under my radar when you were hired by my daughter."

Emma furrowed her brow. _Regina hired me without going through the Board? How? And why?_

"Miss Swan's my favorite teacher," Henry said. "She always makes class interesting. She gave us this to read."

Frozen in horror, Emma could only watch as her student withdrew his copy of _Prince Caspian_ from the backpack that sat at his feet.

Cora's eyebrow rose higher as she took in the title.

"It's optional reading," Regina cut in. "Emma didn't quite understand our adherence to the curriculum when she gave that out. She's still adjusting. But Henry is right. The students adore her."

"Liked by the students, you say?" Cora mused. The ice in her gaze stung Emma's flushed cheeks. "Is that the most important thing to you, Miss Swan? To be _liked_?"

"N-no," she stammered. "Education is my top priority."

The words cut deeper than the Head of the Board could have known. All her life, she _had_ wanted to be liked—by the families that didn't want her, by the schools that she passed through as a part of the system.

She even wanted to be liked by this cold woman because she was the mother of her lover and the grandmother of her favorite student. She cursed her stupid heart for its tireless bleeding

"Regina, I'll have your report on Miss Swan by the end of the week," Cora snapped.

She wanted Regina to say something in her defense, _anything._ But the woman who had been so supple and hot in her arms only hours before turned to wood before her eyes.

"Yes, Mother. Of course."

It hurt too much to stand there caught in the middle of some family feud she didn't understand—no, couldn't understand because she had no family and refused to entertain ever fighting with them if only she did.

"I should go," she muttered. "Good luck with the invitations, Regina."

She dropped a kiss on the top of Henry's damp head. When he clung momentarily to her arm, her heart broke as she had to continue to walk away.

She stopped at the closet, hoping to find her pumps. There, in a neat stack sat her folded clothes and keys pressed to the top. She saw the care in the creases, imagined Regina picking up the discarded articles, and placing them in here sometime this morning. Her chest cracked at the thought.

Voices reached her ear through the wood of the door.

"…were you thinking when you hired _her?_ Regina, she's wearing sweatpants for goodness sake. Your father would have a heart attack to see someone so _unkempt_ in the house he purchased for you."

"I'm sorry. I know she looks less than presentable, but—"

Unable to take it any longer, she stole a pair of Regina's rain boots, which cramped her toes but would be better than heels in the snow. She swiped a jacket from a hanger—a worn red leather one that actually fit well. Then, she opened the front door where a gust of freezing wind and bluster greeted her.

She half-expected Regina to offer her a ride, to at least _offer_ , but no last words followed her into the cold.

 _It doesn't matter,_ she told herself as she stared up at the swirling bowl of the sky, _I'm free._

And she wasn't sure if she would go back. Not after this show. But then…she wasn't sure if she would be invited back here or to Storybrooke Prep for that matter.

She calculated the distance home on her phone and found it a three-mile walk.

 _I've walked further in the same kind of weather when I was younger._

With a deep breath, she convinced herself she could make it. She trudged down the steps, slogged through the driveway, and scoped out the road under all the white. Snow splattered the black rain boots with every step she took. The cold seeped into her feet, and she wished for socks like she'd never wished for anything before.

By the time she reached her apartment, her extremities were so numb she couldn't shove her key into the lock.

"F-fuck me," she chattered, failing even to draw enough strength to scream.

Finally, she burst inside, heat hitting her like cement to the face. She headed straight for her bathtub where she wrenched on the water. Shivering, she stripped out of her sopping clothes and yanked off the boots that left her feet red and blistered.

She stared at her mangled flesh, at her cracking hands. She prayed that a night of fun hadn't given her frostbite that would last a lifetime.

 _I hate you, Regina Mills,_ she thought as she lowered herself into water so hot she thought her skin would slough off into the tub.

But she didn't. She couldn't.

She bathed for what felt like hours, massaging feeling back into her limbs and refilling the tub when the water cooled. When at last her stomach signaled hunger, she drew herself out and into her robe.

As she breathed in the scent of her apartment, she realized how happy she was to be home.

 _Home._

The word wasn't one she used often, but as she went through the routine of brewing tea, preparing grilled cheese, and stretching out on her threadbare couch with the cushion sinking in the middle, she accepted that, yes, this hovel in Storybrooke was home. For now.

While she munched on toasted bread, she plucked up her phone and scrolled through her texts until she found Regina's unsaved number.

 _Should I let her I made it safely?_

As she debated, her phone rang. Killian's cheeky grin popped up on the screen from a time when both of them smiled more because Kathryn was still alive.

She flipped the bar to answer and put him on speaker.

"First ring, Ugly Duckling," he exclaimed. "I can't remember the last time you picked up so fast to talk to little ol' me."

"Hey dumbass," she replied, as was customary.

"Guess where I'm calling from?"

She squinted at the phone. "Somewhere where the signal is crappy?"

"My new boat, babe. We took 'er out for a spin to celebrate the first Maine storm."

"You're insane."

He laughed. "I remember a time when you'd kill for adventure."

"Yeah, when I was young and stupid."

"We're snug as bugs on this rig," he said. "The boys and I have whiskey warming our bellies and a good haul to warm our wallets."

"Did you just call me to brag?"

The line went silent for several seconds.

"Killian?"

"Duckling, I was wondering if you'd thought over my offer to join us. We're talking steady employment, a damn good salary, whatever vacation days you want as long as the work gets done."

She listened to the storm battering her old apartment building. Zaps of pain from the walk home still ran through her toes as she wiggled them. But none of it compared to the ice in Cora Mills' gaze.

"I'm still considering," she said, "but I'm leaning from a maybe to a yes."

"That's great, Duck."

"I do have one request."

"What's that?"

"I want to teach through the end of my employment at Storybrooke Prep," she said. "I don't want to leave the kids, and besides, that's probably coming sooner than you'd think."

Killian knew her well, knew when to ask questions and when to let things go. Right now, he allowed those words to hang in the air between them.

"Well, we'll keep the position open for you till the right time comes. You've made my day, Swan. Can't wait to have you aboard."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Be safe out there, you hear? I won't have a job if you all hit an iceberg."

With a laugh, he said his goodbyes. When Emma hung up, the message screen on her phone flashed back up with a blank text waiting to be sent to Regina.

She munched on the rest of her now cold lunch, crumbs falling onto the screen. As she stared, a message popped up.

 _I'm sorry,_ it read. _I miss you._


	18. Chapter 18

**New chapter up, Lovelies! We get to see more of Henry's development here-as well as Emma's interaction with him. Please review, follow, and fav! It means the world to me when you do!**

 **XX**

Chapter 18:

 _She stood in the forest, unable to flee in her thousand skirts, facing off against the Evil Queen._

 _The woman in red drew a black dagger from its sheath. The sun caught the obsidian, but instead of reflecting the light, the stone drank it. The wrongness of that sight had Emma moving backward, needing to escape._

 _"Where are you going, Savior?" the Evil Queen cackled. "I have yet to cut out your heart."_

 _She fell as she went, sticks from the forest floor biting into the skin of her hands. The other woman advanced. The breadth of the queen's skirts grew until the blood-colored fabric engulfed the blonde and strung her up within the coils. She writhed in terror, realizing the skirts truly_ were _composed of hot, slippery blood, that they would drown her if she didn't escape._

 _"You're mine," the Evil Queen said._

She jerked awake and found herself trapped in a sweat-soaked sheet. She glanced at her alarm and saw she had a minute until it alerted her to an early Monday morning.

She slammed her fist into her mattress and flopped back down.

 _I slept peacefully when I was in Regina's bed. There was none of this nightmare crap from Henry's story._

Maybe she'd have to tell him to lay off the horror stuff today when he came to literary magazine, she decided. Then, she stopped with her feet planted on the cold floor, remembering that if he showed up this afternoon, she would have to tell him to go to tennis.

Disappointed, she stared out at the pearly morning sky. It felt like a million years since she'd last driven to Storybrooke Prep and a million more since Henry first skipped tennis to write with her, she realized.

She ran her three miles on the road next to fresh snow, sore feet protesting the entire way. Back home, she experimented with vanilla extract in her smoothie and a dash of pumpkin spice to give the bananas and plain yogurt some zing.

As she completed her morning routine by shrugging on the red leather jacket she'd stolen from Regina and picking up her briefcase, she acknowledged her hands shook the entire morning with the anticipation of seeing her lover. Despite sending a text back the night before that all was fine, a million tiny insecurities itched under her skin.

 _I hope when I get to the school, I still have a job._

She arrived while the lot was still empty and the sun low. She went straight to the principal's office, hoping Tink would be late.

But the perky, blonde receptionist lounged in her swivel chair, a paper cup of coffee from a local brew in one hand, a comb for her bangs in the other.

"Emma," Tink said, surprised. "How can I help you?"

Her eyes flitted to the principal's office, which sat empty and dark as a crypt. "Reg—Dr. Mills isn't in?" she asked.

"She won't be today," the receptionist said. "She's at a conference."

 _A conference?_

In all the time they'd spent together this weekend, Regina just happened to leave that detail out? She stifled the hurt that pinged around in her chest.

 _Jesus, Swan, it isn't like you two are a_ couple _and share a damn calendar._

"I'd be happy to help you in her place though," Tink continued.

Her cheery voice suddenly grated on Emma's nerves.

"That's all right, thanks. I just heard she's working on a report on me. I wanted to check the progress."

"I'm sure it's going fine," Tink said as Emma went to leave. "Hey, it's was pretty fun when we all went to Oasis, wasn't it?"

 _Oasis. The bar where this whole descent into madness began._

"Yeah," she said slowly.

"We should do it again sometime."

She glanced back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed at the cute blonde package. Was Tink flirting? Had Regina filled the entire school with hot, queer women behind her mother's back?

Emma had the insane and hilarious thought that maybe that was why Regina hired her outside of the Board's watchful eye. Or perhaps not. Perhaps the receptionist was just being friendly to the new kid on the block.

"We should," she said.

"A bunch of us thought we might go this Saturday."

She started to agree, then remembered her prior plans.

"You all aren't going to Henry's birthday party?" she asked.

The question sounded dumb outside of her mouth. Why would a bunch of teachers and administrative staff want to spend a day in Band-Aid invested pools with rowdy tweens and a boss they called the Ice Queen?

"I didn't think Regina invited staff to Henry's parties, just his classmates," Tink said. "You must be something special if she wants you there."

Emma's face heated as an irrational fear that Tink possessed mind-reading powers and could see every dirty thing she'd done to the principal—and had done to her, for that matter—leapt into her brain.

"I think I'm just his new favorite teacher," she muttered. "Uh, have a good day, Tink."

She zoomed out of the office and stood in the dark hallway, breathing hard.

 _That was too close, Swan. You'll give everything away._

Then she really would lose her job, and after meeting Cora, she worried so would Regina.

She checked her watch and decided a soothing cup of steaming coffee would be the only thing to repair her tattered nerves.

The teacher's lounge appeared empty from the doorway, but when she stepped in, she found Red in the dark, dropping frozen waffles into the toaster.

"Granny not fix you breakfast this morning?" she asked drily as she entered.

The lanky brunette turned and flipped her the bird. "No morning shift for me today, or night shift for that matter. I'm bushed."

"Why's that?" Emma stirred a packet of sugar and several dashes of cinnamon into her mug as she watched the other woman eyeball her waffles for optimum toastiness.

"I _met_ somebody," Red said.

"Like a girl?"

Her friend nodded.

Emma chuckled. "You've forgotten me so soon? I'm hurt."

Her cheeky tone garnered her a look of scorn. "Shut it, Swan, and listen. The crazy thing is she and I have crossed paths before because she goes to Granny's and I go to the library, but fate must not have thought we should meet until last night because she was in a relationship, and I was focusing on my career, so—"

"Whoa." Emma held out a hand. "Stop, just stop. Slow down and go from the beginning."

Red inhaled a giant gulp of air to start again just as the warning bell rang.

"Guess you'll have to tell me over lunch?" Emma asked.

"Definitely."

She left her friend in the teacher's lounge, laughing when she heard a cry of "Damn, burned my waffles!"

"That's love, my friend," she whispered, smiling as she took the stairs to her classroom. "Late nights, breathless mornings, and burned waffles."

When the final bell signaled the start to classes, Emma grinned at her students, specifically Henry who wiggled in his seat.

"Do we remember what today is?"

A series of groans rounded the room, and she chuckled.

"That's right. Your essays on _Hatchet_ are due. Remember this essay is worth a significant portion of your grade. Because of that, I'll be sure to take extra care when marking them up."

Her students passed their assignments to the front of the room, the sounds of papers shuffling and giggling filling the classroom with life. Emma collected from each row, but stopped when she reached Henry.

She glanced down at the stack in front of him. "Where's your essay, kid?"

He turned a pencil over in his hands, not looking at her. "I didn't finish it."

A jolt went through her. "Oh? Well, we can talk about this after class."

Unsettled, she placed the stack on her desk, cleared her throat, and moved to the board.

"Today we're starting section 3.4 of your text. If you'll open to page 47, we'll go over the basics of sentence diagraming. Who can tell me what a diagram of a sentence is?"

Emma tried her best to keep her mind on the lesson for the rest of the period, but her eyes continued to flick back to Henry who seemed restless in his seat. When the bell released first period at last, she crooked her finger at him to approach her desk.

"What happened this weekend?" she asked. "You knew this assignment was worth a lot of points."

He shrugged, still twirling the pencil. "Whenever I'm at Grammie and Grandpa's they don't keep me on a schedule like Mom does. So I forgot to do it. I always forget if Mom doesn't remind me to check my chart."

A new respect for Regina's commanding demeanor blossomed in Emma's chest. A part of her got it now-why Regina was the way she was.

"And she didn't check to see if you'd finished it Sunday night?"

"Grammie was over late after you left, talking to Mom," he told her. "Mom normally checks my backpack in the morning before we ride to school, but she had the conference today and left before me, so I took the bus."

Emma did her best to ignore the negative connotations Cora staying late held for her and stay focused on her student. "If you'd let me know, I would have swung by to pick you up. I only live three miles away."

"I was embarrassed," he said, voice so low she strained to hear it over the noise of her seventh graders monkeying about in their seats.

"By what?"

"I didn't want you to know I have ADHD," he said, spitting the words like they hurt his mouth. "It doesn't make me a bad person."

"Henry…" Her heart broke as she watched him flush.

"Do you think I could turn the essay in late? I'll work on it tonight. I promise."

She started to say yes, then paused.

 _Storybrooke Prep doesn't accept late work. They don't think it's good practice for the real world._

With Regina's report on her due to Cora at the end of the week, she couldn't afford to take liberties, not now...not when she most wanted to.

"I'm sorry, kid," she said gently. "That's against school policy."

She thought she saw the glisten of tears in his eyes before he blinked them away. "I really wanted an A in English," he whispered. "I thought I could do it this year."

She went to put a reassuring hand on his shoulder when the bell announced second period.

"Do you have your planner? I'll write you a pass, so you're not late," she said.

After she wrote the pass, he left the room with his head hanging, carrying an unhappy piece of Emma's heart with him.

By the time her lunch period arrived, she marched down the stairs, fuming.

 _They're_ sixth _graders. It's not fair. With a disability, he should be allowed extra time to finish an assignment._

She did the only thing she could do when she entered the empty lounge. She took a seat at the table she shared with Red most days and unlocked her phone. If she couldn't retroactively grant Henry more time, then she would do the next best thing. Research ADHD and try to prevent this from happening again.

She was knee-deep in her own frustration and an article about delayed brain development in persons with ADHD when Red flounced into the room and all but tackled her in a hug.

"Well, hello," Emma said, glad for the distraction.

"Hi, hey, hello. So are you ready for the scoop?"

"Just as soon as you heat up our lunch."

Red dropped into the chair opposite Emma. "Uh, I forgot lunch today. Sorry."

Her stomach let out a pitiful growl. "Then this story of yours better be really good because I'm starving."

"Her name is Belle. She works at Storybrooke Public Library. She's absolutely stunning. And guess what?"

"What?"

"Our favorite color is _rainbow_."

Emma chuckled. "That must have been the moment when you knew she was the one."

She listened to her friend gush about her crush, spilling sweet details like gumballs from a candy machine.

 _Belle,_ she thought, _Red deserves someone with such an elegant name. It must be nice for them—to be openly together, not worried about what others will think. I wish—_

"So whatdaya say?" Red asked, nudging her elbow.

Her jerked back into reality. "About what?"

"About you and the Ice Queen double dating with me and Belle?"

Emma looked up to make sure none of the other teachers were listening to their conversation.

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," she said quietly. "We have to be discreet."

"Okay, so not right now, but what about someday?"

Someday. That word held so much weight Emma wasn't sure she could lift it.

Someday she would most likely be on a boat, managing a fishing business, the woman of her dreams just that—a dream.

But she said "Maybe" with a toothy smile just to shut Red up.

 **XX**

 **TOMORROW is the one-month anniversary of this story's birth! I have an extra special chapter coming up from Regina's point of view planned to celebrate (Chapter 20, so we're almost there).**

 **I'm wondering...we are 8 reviews away from breaking 100. Your reviews inspire me to write. They've helped shape the story. Do you think that we can reach 100 reviews by tomorrow? If you've been waiting to say something about the story, there's no better time than now!**

 **Love you all, and thank you from the bottom of my heart for your support. XOXO**


	19. Chapter 19

**New chapter! And good God is it a long one. This monster took me a couple days to write, but it has everything in it-fluff, smut, bonding, etc. I apologize in the delay in posting. FF has been acting up for me, and I ended up emailing Support about it. I'm unable to view any new reviews and was getting a 504 error a few days ago when I tried to access my profile. Is anybody else having issues?**

 **So if you've reviewed, THANK YOU, and I'm so sorry I can't read it. Hopefully that'll be fixed soon because we did reach over 100 reviews!**

 **Reviews, favs, and follows truly are my life's blood, so I love you for them. Anyway, I hope you enjoy...**

 **XX**

Chapter 19:

After school ended, Emma hurried down the hallway to the closet-like space where her lit mag met. She flipped on lights, organized an unbalanced stack of poems on her desk, and greeted Ariel, Tom, and all the others as they filtered in.

Just as she was about to take a seat at her desk, thinking maybe Henry wouldn't show up, he banged through the door, face red and panting.

"Sorry I'm late."

She caught the hood on his jacket before he could slip past her. "Not so fast, kid." She dragged him back to her desk.

To everyone else, she said, "Go ahead and get started, people. I'll be up here if you need anything."

"Do we have to talk? Can't I just work on my story?" Henry asked.

She sat down across from him, meeting his hopeful gaze. "Sorry, kid. You remember what your mom said last week. You have to go to tennis."

"You're mad at me, aren't you?" he muttered. "'Cause I didn't turn in my paper. Now you don't want me to stay."

 _So this is what having a kid is like,_ Emma thought, grimacing. _Guilt trips galore._

"I'm not mad at you," she told him. "I do wish you'd let me know you were struggling earlier. But from now on, we'll work together on your coursework. Just like we're working together on our plan, so you can come to lit mag—I just have to beat your mom in a tennis match."

"Like that's ever going to happen." He rolled his eyes.

"Hey." She gave his shoulders a little shake. "Have some faith in me. And in yourself. We can do this."

He studied her for a long moment. "So even though my mom is gone at a conference today, you're making me go to tennis?"

"Yes. Henry," she said, and his eyes dropped away. "Hey, you and I may not understand exactly why tennis is so important to your mom. You and I may not get why she tells you to do the things she does, but I can tell you that she's doing the right thing. She loves you. And I—"

 _I…love your mom,_ she thought, _and I love you, too._

But she caught those words just before they spilled from her lips.

"I want to respect that," she finished.

"Okay." He reached into his backpack and dropped a stack of papers on top of the poems Emma had organized. "There's two new chapters on my story. I hope you like them."

He proffered a last, wounded look before shuffling out of the room.

Emma flopped back in her chair when he was gone. _Damn, this parenting thing sucks._

Her palms were sweaty, her heart pounding in her chest. But she took comfort in knowing that she would have made Regina happy with her decision—and with the knowledge that Regina knew Henry and his needs far better than she did.

"How's everything coming?" she asked her students.

When she received grumbles and shushes from the engrossed bunch, she allowed herself to relax. She plucked Henry's chapters from the bunch and fell into his story.

Sometime later, she finished the last page, not wanting the Evil Queen's adventures to be over so soon. She looked at the next piece of paper, as though staring at it could transform the words into Chapter 11.

Instead, she found a poem without an author next on the stack.

She glanced at her watch, noting she still had a good half hour before lit mag ended.

 _Fine,_ she thought, beginning to read:

Why They Call It After Life

Death happens in ribbons,

slivers of silver sliding off skin,

grey hair fading until

no color remains.

Likewise, colorless, we are born,

souls like water,

consciences clear,

and bloodstreams clean.

We go the same way we come.

Mid-life, what shade is your soul?

Mine is the sun,

forcing through my flesh

like spring out of winter's breast.

The older I grow,

the more my body melts from my bones.

The ribbons around me recede,

leaving not a woman but a phoenix.

I will burn away

until not even silver slivers remain.

But from the ash,

I will rise, colorless, my child,

reborn as the air you breathe.

Emma finished the poem, stunned. She glanced at her students, wondering which one of them could have written it, wondering which student in the entire _school_ would have written of death, of having children, of womanhood.

Hands shaking, she placed the sheet of paper on her desk. She tried to still her trembling fingertips by sitting on them. But the thrill to compose music to accompany this piece of poetry only grew.

 _From my bones, from my bones, from my bones_ rang through her.

"The chorus," she announced.

Several heads popped up from their work like dandelions from dirt to glower at her.

"Sorry," she told her students. "Just ignore me."

She flipped over the paper and scribbled notes and rests furiously along the back. She was nearly to the refrain when Ariel appeared in front of her, flashes of red hair pulling Emma out of the song.

"Yes?" Emma failed to control her irritation.

"Are you writing on the back of a submission?" Ariel huffed as she collected the rest of the stack from under Emma's elbow.

The eighth grader attempted to tug the paper out of Emma's grasp, but the blonde dug her nails in.

"Ariel, I swear I will fight you if you don't let go."

Her student released the edges with a gasp. "Miss Swan—"

"Oh, shush. We have approximately five minutes until this week's lit mag meeting ends. You have plenty of submissions to go through right there before then," Emma said, pointing to the stack crushed against her student's chest. "I'll make a copy of this one and bring it back next week."

Ariel continued to glare at her.

"I promise."

"Fine." Ariel flipped her red hair over her shoulder and flounced away from Emma's desk.

Left in peace, she managed to draw out two new notes before the bell rang. She burst from her seat like she had rockets attached to her feet.

"See you all next week," she called as she raced out of the classroom.

Her Bug took ten centuries to chug through the melting snow and up to her driveway. At last, she turned off the ignition with the back bumper still hanging in the street, sprinted to her front door, and threw herself inside her apartment.

The need to have her guitar locked in her hands clawed inside her chest.

 _The monster has been caged for too long,_ she thought as she pulled out half-empty boxes from her closet.

She unburied her keyboard first, then her bag of cords, her smaller amp, and finally her guitar and music stand. She ignored the folder that she knew contained sheet music to every song she and Kathryn had ever written.

She poured a glass of _Pinot Grigio_ before plugging her amp into a surge protector, then her guitar into the amp. Guitar in lap, she studied the smooth surface the way she would her long lost child. She tuned the beast tentatively until instead of yowling, it purred beneath her fingers.

 _My calluses from playing are gone,_ she realized as the strings rubbed the pads of her fingers raw.

But as the notes in major key danced from her amp, she lost her ability to care about anything but the music—lost her ability to care about anything but playing.

She finished the first draft of the song long after the sun died, long after the bottle of _Pinot Grigio_ emptied into her belly. Drunk on full-bodied notes and dry wine, she lifted her head from the smudged papers where she'd recorded her soul.

Her stomach announced its annoyance at being ignored at the same time her phone vibrated between couch cushions. She unplugged her guitar, balanced it in its stand, and took her phone into her kitchen.

As she rummaged for something to eat, she unlocked her phone.

 _I heard you stopped by my office today,_ read the text from an unsaved number.

Emotions unbound by drinking, Emma's heart pumped twelve times faster as she stared at the text from Regina.

 _I still have that red jacket of yours that I stole the other day. I was going to drop it off,_ she sent back.

While she waited for a response, she decided on waffles for dinner because Red's smelled so good earlier that day. She found a package of Eggos in her freezer, but as her phone buzzed again, she made a different decision.

 _I was hoping you'd stopped by to see me, not just to return something,_ Regina wrote. _Is that selfish?_

She smiled as she typed. _Very selfish. How was your conference?_

Ellipses indicated Regina's reply. As they bounced on the screen, Emma gathered ingredients for homemade waffles.

"It's been too long, since I _actually_ cooked something and enjoyed it," she muttered to her cabinets.

But tonight was a night for firsts after Kathryn—guitar, now cooking.

When her supplies sat on a countertop, she began to mix her batter. She reached for the eggs and paused.

"How'd Regina make that flax egg again?"

She found her flax shoved behind her blender. She added two parts water to one part flax, and let the artificial egg gel, while she reached for her phone.

 _The conference was terribly dull. I found my mind wondering to your pretty face and to your very pretty…other parts. I'll be so thankful to be back in my office tomorrow. How was your day, dear?_

She poured her batter into her waffle maker, debating on how to respond. Should she tell Regina that Henry hadn't finished his assignment? Should she tell her that she sent Henry to tennis when he showed up at the literary magazine meeting? Or should she spill that she'd composed a song for the first time in years?

 _It was fine,_ she sent, _but lonely without you._

 _Then it sounds like we suffered similarly. Perhaps you will stop by my office again tomorrow in another attempt to return my jacket?_

Grinning, Emma thumbed a response.

They sent messages back at forth at rapid-fire speed. They might have texted the entire night, she thought, had it not been for the smell of something burning that reminded her she had dinner cooking.

"Shit, shit, shit."

She rescued her waffles, but not before her smoke alarm blared a warning so loud she swore death was imminent.

She raced around her apartment, opening windows to allow in the frigid night air, then waved at the alarm with a stack of student papers. At last, the blasted thing went silent. As the smoke cleared, she stared around her messy kitchen, eyes landing on her burned waffles.

 _Didn't I say something about burned waffles this morning?_ she thought.

The memory rushed back to her.

 _Late nights, breathless mornings, and burned waffles. That's love, friend._

She nibbled crispy edges as she replied to the latest text from the woman she'd fallen for.

 _Yep. That's love._

#

The following morning, Emma woke around 5 am. She skipped her morning workout, dressed, and went straight to her kitchen.

Last night she'd decided if her waffles weren't so damned toasty, they'd be delicious. She was determined to whip up a batch worthy of her queen.

She went through an entire family-sized box of flour before she decided she'd finally made something a few steps up from edible. She wrapped the plate in tinfoil, grabbed real maple syrup, then threw clothes in a gym bag to play tennis with Henry that afternoon.

At 6:43, she locked up her place and crossed her fingers that traffic would be light and Regina would be early.

When she nudged open the door to the principal's reception area, she sighed with relief that Tink's desk still sat in shadows. Best of all, beyond that, lights winked in Regina's office.

"Anybody here?" she asked playfully, pushing her boss's door open wider.

"Emma?"

She found Regina seated expectantly in her leather chair with fingers steepled.

"Hi."

The rest of her words faded from her mouth as she took in the hot bourbon gaze that examined her from head to toe, the amused quirk of that plump mouth and the flick of pink tongue.

Regina's cleavage strained in her low-cut, cream-colored blouse, and she wore a hard gold collar around her neck that Emma suddenly longed to snap a leash on.

 _It's not even 7 am, and I've ruined my panties already_ , she realized.

"Hi, yourself," Regina replied, oblivious to her squirming. "I see you brought my jacket."

"Yeah."

Still short on the ability to form full sentences, she padded around the oversized desk and set the plate of waffles in front of her lover. She shrugged off the red leather jacket and held it out in offering.

A sculpted brow raised, Regina glanced from the plate to Emma to the jacket and back again.

"What's this?" she asked, indicating the tinfoil.

"I made you breakfast," she replied.

She hurried to remove the tinfoil, revealing the still-steaming waffles, then produced a fork and the syrup.

"They smell wonderful."

"They're vegan," she said before her lover could ask.

"Lovely." Regina gathered a bite on her fork. "To be honest, Emma, you should keep that jacket. It fits you better than it ever did me."

She held the distressed fabric against herself, catching a whiff of apple perfume mixed with the pungent scent of real leather.

"Thanks," she whispered as Regina took the first nibble.

"Delicious," the brunette exclaimed.

She let out her breath, laughing as she watched all pretenses of manners and elegance fade as the older woman tore into the waffles like they were her last meal.

"I'm glad you like them."

"I _love_ them." Regina looked up from her plate, her eyes hooded and mouth sticky.

"I'm glad." Emma longed to lap up the syrup coating her lover's lips.

"No one has ever made me cinnamon apple waffles before."

"I used fresh Red Delicious," she said. "And I sprinkled in some cinnamon because our two favorite things compliment one another so well."

"Apple cinnamon," Regina drawled, tugging Emma's pants, so the blonde stood with her leg flush against the other woman's cheek. "Maybe that's a better safe word."

Her breath hitched as she watched her lover wipe her mouth before pressing kisses to the seam of her black jeans. A burst of heat traveled from between her legs, fanning through the rest of her body until her every nerve begged for Regina's touch.

"W-we don't have time," she stammered as one of the brunette's hands stole under her shirt and her teeth nipped at the fabric that hid Emma's straining clit.

With a sigh, the older woman released her. "You're right."

They smiled at one another before Regina pushed back her chair and jumped up.

"I have the best idea," she said, taking Emma's hands. " _You_ must make Henry's birthday cake. To be honest, I'd thought you were lying about the culinary arts section of your resume, considering the crap you consume on a daily basis, but—"

"Hold on." Emma removed herself from her lover's grip. "You've already cooked, like, twenty cakes. They're all amazing. Why would you want me to make one, too?"

"Because I think these waffles are a hundred times better than any of those cakes," Regina replied, gesturing at her empty plate. "I'd pay you if you'd like."

She frowned. "Absolutely not."

"Emma, my son deserves the best. Please help me give that to him."

As she gazed into her lover's dark eyes, her resolved melted. "Fine."

"Thank you." Regina captured her lips in a lingering kiss. "You may come over tonight if you're free. We can cook together."

"And what're you gonna do with the other twenty cakes?"

The brunette shrugged. "Every year I take the extras to the teacher's lounge and leave them anonymously." She winked. "It's fun to see who claims false credit."

This _is the woman all the teachers call an Ice Queen?_

Gently, she lifted Regina off the ground, so their eyes were level. She kissed her lover, watching the other woman's cheeks grow flushed, feeling the heat rise between their bodies.

 _They're crazy. She's the hottest woman alive. And she's mine._

#

That evening, Emma tapped the gargoyle knocker on Regina's front door three times. She heard movement inside the house, heard something crash, then Henry flung the door open.

"Mom said you were coming," he said, breathless, lugging her in out of the cold. "I beat her to the door."

Regina emerged a moment later from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron covered in red apples. Emma licked her lips, wishing her lover wore nothing else underneath and that dinner would be served between the other woman's legs.

"I'm making veggie lasagna," the principal said, "with real cheese in honor of your presence."

The smell of melted mozzarella and something spicy hit Emma's nostrils as soon as Henry shoved the door closed on the icy wind.

"Smells great," she said, starting to step toward Regina.

"Shoes off," both mother and son shouted simultaneously.

"Okay, okay," she said, holding her hands up in surrender and kicking off her snow boots. "Dual assault from the Mills family."

She hung up her scarf and the red leather jacket in the closet. "When do we eat?"

"Everything should be ready in a half hour," Regina told her.

"Do you need help in the kitchen?"

"Actually." The older woman glanced at her son. "I think Henry requires your assistance with a video game."

"All right." Emma rubbed her hands together. "I kick some serious ass at Super Mario Bros."

"Language," Regina warned, but Emma and Henry ignored her.

"I'm playing Black Ops III," he informed her. "You know how to shoot stuff, right?"

"I'm sure you'll teach me, kid."

She followed him into the den behind the sitting room, ogling the TV so large the guns on the screen looked like she could pick them up out of the game.

For the next half hour, explosions rocked the dark room. Emma yelped and hid behind a cushion as a tank rolled over Henry's character, crushing it and leaving the screen bloody.

"You sure you don't want to play Super Smash Bros. or something?" she asked from the fort she'd constructed.

"Not during my video game hour, Emma" he told her. "Hey, can I call you by your first name?"

"When we're not at school, sure."

She'd picked up a controller at last only to die immediately moments before Regina collected them for dinner.

"How was it?" the brunette asked as she set salad and garlic bread in the center of the kitchen table that could seat 8.

"Terrifying," Emma said at the same time Henry exclaimed, "Bad ass."

"Language," Regina corrected. "Did you save everything, Henry? After dinner, you've got math and science projects to finish."

With a nod, he dug into his food. Emma followed suit, shoving a huge bite into her mouth. She yelped as the hot cheese burned her mouth and something spicy made her eyes water.

She gulped water. "What the hell is _in_ this?"

"Hot pepper flakes," the older woman said, failing to hide her laugh behind her napkin. "I should have warned you."

"W-well, it's good," Emma replied, wiping her streaming eyes and eating a second forkful more cautiously. "Now that it's not trying to kill me."

When they finished, Henry dropped his dishes in the sink and raced out of the room, Regina reminding him twice to do his homework. While Mother wrangled Son, Emma grabbed her bag of ingredients from the car. She returned to the kitchen where her lover had already greased a cake pan for her.

While she baked, the brunette fixed them Brandy Alexanders—and bowls of sorbet when Henry made an appearance for dessert. The three of them ate, spoons clacking against the bowls, while the smell of melting chocolate permeated the room.

"Is Emma spending the night?" Henry asked in between licking his bowl.

Regina's neck snapped up, reddening at his words. "Why ever would you think that?"

He shrugged. "Tom stays in our guest room whenever he spends the night. I saw you in there earlier today. I thought you were getting it ready."

"There was no other reason?" Regina pressed.

"Well, it's getting late." He pointed at the clock on the stove. "It's going on 10, and you haven't even told me to get in bed yet. Normally that only happens on sleepover nights."

Emma eyed the flustered Regina who checked her watch, shoed her son from the room, and triple checked the cake.

"It should be done in a couple minutes," she said when the other woman avoided eye contact. "I can go now if you'd like."

"Don't be silly. You should see it through to the end. Heaven forbid I do something to ruin the cake now."

Facing away from the blonde, Regina picked up a dishrag and scrubbed at an invisible spot on her countertop. Emma approached her, reaching around to still the hand with the rag.

"He doesn't know anything," she whispered into the perfect shell of her lover's ear. "You're safe."

At their nearness, the brunette drew in a sharp gasp. The sound was too much for Emma's resolve. She pulled the older woman to her, feeling Regina's ass grind against her front.

The other woman glanced over her shoulder, breathy. "Maybe you could spend the night, after all."

Emma nodded, nipples hardening.

"In the guest room, that is."

"I'll stay there until Henry goes to sleep."

Regina's scarlet lips came within a centimeter of hers, then the brunette pulled out of her grasp. "The cake!"

They saved the chocolate masterpiece moments before it went from done to too done.

Emma wrapped the cake pan in plastic wrap as Henry reemerged at the base of the stairs in pajamas. He hugged his mother, then her.

As she held him, her heart turned to soft candy in her chest.

"I hope you stay," he muttered, then let her go.

At the bottom of the stairway, they listened to the door to his room click.

"Hurry up with that," Regina said, pointing at the pan still in Emma's hands.

She tripped over herself as she stored it in the fridge, then took the steps two at a time after her lover.

In the darkness of the bedroom, Regina allowed Emma to remove her gold choker, the cream-colored blouse, and her fitted black slacks.

"I have a toothbrush you can use," the brunette whispered as Emma's hands swam over the shape of her heated skin.

It was torture to pull away and finish preparing for bed, but somehow she managed. At long last, she crawled onto the king bed and into her lover's waiting arms.

In the blackness, she fumbled to peel off Regina's bra and underwear. When the brunette lay naked, she lowered herself between trembling legs. She bit her lip to keep from moaning at the heat that came from the apex of her lover's thighs.

A muffled groan welled up in Regina's throat, the sound sending fire through Emma's body. Breathing uneven, she kissed her way up Regina's neck, then found the other woman's lips. As their mouths tangled, she thrust her hips forward, listening to the moan that rose as her pubic mound hit her lover's clit.

"W-wait," Regina said as she went to thrust again.

"What?"

"It's…Henry." The other woman stiffened in her arms. "I've never…I've never made love with him in the house."

"Really?" Desire trickled out of Emma's body. She flopped on her side next to the other woman. "I'm surprised. You could have anyone in your bed at the snap of your fingers."

"I know. I've always taken them…elsewhere," came the reply. "You do understand, don't you?"

Her clit screamed for Regina's wet mouth, but her heart knew what was right. "Of course I do."

"Thank you, Emma." Her lover's hand found hers in the dark. "Will you hold me?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

With a throaty chuckle, Regina nestled into her body, the small spoon. Emma lifted strands of dark hair from where they tickled her nose and trailed chaste kisses along the slope of her lover's neck. She allowed her hands to travel the planes of the body that rested so perfectly against her own, cupping breasts, squeezing muscular thighs until her motions slowed with sleep.

"Emma," Regina said drowsily moments before the blonde nodded off.

"Hmm?"

"I l—" But before she finished, the other woman's words dropped into a soft snore.

 _I…I love you, too._

 **XX**

 **Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed Regina's outfit (which is similar to what Lana wore on Live! with Kelly and Michael last week). I also hope you enjoyed the poem. It's from my collection THE LIGHT YOU CANNOT TOUCH (You can purchase it on Amazon if you want to support a starving, queer poet and her small press.) and was originally published in 2014 in _Germ Magazine_. The formatting of it on here is a little weird, but you can find the correct formatting in my book! **

**As promised, the next chapter is a special chapter in honor of the one-month anniversary of the story from Regina's perspective! I hope you'll keep reading! :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Special chapter from Regina's perspective alive and well! Please read and review!**

 **XX**

Chapter 20:

The morning of the Fall Charity Masquerade, Regina lay in bed, awake long before the sun. Despite the heater and the blankets wrapped around her, a chill drifted through the cavernous room, prompting her to rise.

She brewed Earl Grey in her kitchen. Cupping the scorching, bitter liquid, she descended into the basement where the machines in her home gym hunched in the darkness.

 _Like monsters, as Henry would have said when he was younger,_ she thought with a fond smile.

When her tea was gone, she powered through her rowing exercise, arms and core burning with exertion when she finished.

 _It's almost enough,_ she thought.

Everything was almost enough to dispel the tension between her shoulder blades, the anxiety in her ribs. Almost.

Only Emma who'd held her all through the night before, who'd made her come so hard she left her body the weekend past, who seemed to steal her bad parts with a single kiss quelled the demons inside her.

She wished she could ask the blonde to stay with her again tonight. Instead, she would have to brave the charity event and her mother.

The sound of Henry's heavy feet clomping on the ground above alerted her to his presence. She climbed the stairs, found him rummaging in the kitchen, and stole him into a hug.

"Mom," he complained, mouth full of string cheese.

"Not for breakfast," she said, plucking the package from his hand. "I'll fix you something. Have you checked your chart this morning?"

He swallowed and shook his head.

"Don't forget," she said as he ran his index finger down the morning column of the chart they kept on the fridge. "Miss Lucas is taking you home tonight to spend the night with Tom, since your grandparents and I will be at the masquerade."

"I remember."

She pulled him into another hug. "Go and get ready for school."

This time, he hugged her back before racing up the steps to his room.

Without him in the vast kitchen, the chill found her again. She placed a hand on the cold marble of the island, wondering if the house might feel more like home had she been the one to buy it.

In her bedroom, she donned a tailored suit. Then she laid out the backless, black Herve Leger gown she'd chosen for that night. She pressed one of the cap-sleeves flat where it wrinkled before turning her back on the dress.

At school, the day passed too quickly. She stole a brief moment with Emma during the blonde's planning period. When her lips caressed the younger woman's, she wished desperately her night held different plans, especially since Henry would be out of the house.

But all too soon, school ended. She drove back to her residence, stripped to nothing, and slid the film of the Herve Leger over her hips. She drew the zipper up over the curve of her ass, examining how the gown left her back exposed.

As she gazed in the mirror, she imagined Emma's tongue gliding along her spine, exploring her shoulder muscles as they flexed. She could still feel the sting of this morning's row in them. How delicious it would be to have her lover's hands and mouth soothe her. She would have to settle for liquor instead.

Minutes before eight, she finished her second whiskey, found her clutch, and locked her darkened house behind her. The Benz sped through town to where the twinkling lights of Storybrooke Country Club lit up the lingering snow.

Taking a deep breath, she slipped her favorite pair of Aquazzura Gigi pumps back on and strolled to the entrance.

A man from the staff that she didn't recognize took her coat and handed her a black mask, while she searched for her parents within the milling bodies. She found her mother doused in the light of a dozen chandeliers where strings of grey pearls decorated her neck and the glow of real diamonds bounced off her mask. Henry Senior stood a step behind her—the faithful fixture, the deep pockets, the figurehead in the marriage.

She approached them, saying her hellos to the bodies she passed. A hand on another. Two pecks on cheeks. A name lost, then found on her smiling mouth. All the while, she kept on eye on her parents. They'd taught her how to play the game well. She could give them credit for that.

"Princess," her father said when she reached them.

As he embraced her, she could smell the tobacco on his suit and the hard liquor he'd drunk.

"Good evening, Daddy."

"Regina, finally," her mother exclaimed. "You're late."

She checked the watch cuff she wore. "Hardly."

"Late enough." Her mother took her arm and steered her through the crowd. "I signed you up for the auction tonight. Before that, there's someone I want you to meet."

"Wait, the auction?"

"Yes, dear, the one they do every year."

Regina pulled away. "Where they auction off women to the highest bidder? Mother, I'm not chattel, nor am I as young as I used to be."

"Oh, please." Cora's eyes danced with stars under the light, a woman drunk on her own spotlight. "It's for charity. Besides, you might meet a man willing to overlook your…age."

"I don't want—" Regina began, but her mother turned away.

"Robin," Cora said as she tapped the man in front of them on the shoulder with her fan. "I'd like you to meet my daughter, Regina Mills."

The man rounded to face them, blue eyes dancing behind the black mask he wore.

"Nice to meet you," he said, offering a hand. "I'm with the Hood family. We're in dairy."

"And I see you've already become familiar with my family." She pulled away with his fingers lingered.

"Lovely," her mother tittered. "Why don't the two of you wander over to the hors d'oeuvre? Regina, I'll collect you when the auction is about to begin."

Her skin crawled when Robin put his hand on the small of her back, but she allowed him to propel her in the direction of the food.

"Why don't we stop for a drink?" she asked as they passed the wet bar.

The two whiskeys she'd drunk had long turned to dust in her stomach. With all the night now promised, she needed the lubrication more than she needed air.

He followed her obediently into the line where, for a long minute, they stood in silence.

"Your mother tells me you're in education," he said at last. "A noble field."

She nodded.

"And you play tennis?" He mimed striking a ball. "I play a bit myself. Perhaps while I'm in town, we could play a game or two."

"I don't play anymore."

"Why is that?"

She placed her drink order for whiskeys neat in place of responding. When the bartender set two tumblers on the bar, and he reached for one, she snatched it out from under him.

She saw a flash of something, maybe anger, in his eyes before he replaced it with a smile and asked for his own single malt straight up.

She surprised herself by waiting for him as she drank. Staying, she supposed, would be better than facing her mother's wrath.

As she downed the first tumbler in a less than ladylike fashion, the top shelf liquor hit her like the smack of a racket against her ass. She dropped the first empty glass on the bar, heading swimming pleasantly.

"I don't play anymore due to an old injury," she said.

It was half-true. She had been injured. But the truth was the tendon injury gave her more of a reason to stop than actual lasting damage.

Like her son, she grew tired of the long hours, the endless, hollow thwack of the ball against the court. Until she played against Emma, she would continue to consider herself retired.

"My son plays," she went on before Robin could reply.

She waited for his reaction, hoping to see a withdrawal at the mention of a child in her life. But his blue eyes only brightened.

"Perhaps I'll play him then."

She sipped at the second tumbler of burning whiskey. What was she even supposed to say to him? It had been ages since her mother last tried to set her up with anyone and even longer since she'd slept with a man.

"Tell me about yourself," she managed.

He needed no further encouragement, launching into a full-scale story of his childhood and his family's legacy. As he talked, she marveled at the irony. Of course her mother would set her up with a man from the dairy industry when she'd been vegan for ten years.

 _Cora,_ she thought, _could you sink any lower?_

When her mother appeared to drag her on stage for the auction, she found herself glad to stand under the glaring light with a dozen other younger women, instead of next to him.

As her number came up, her smile clicked into place. She watched the flash of numbered paddles in the audience, feeling her chest warm. Unease welled inside her as Robin bid higher and higher for the date.

 _Why is this happening? Why am I_ allowing _this to happen?_

She thought she would break she felt so brittle, so hollowed out, so scooped clean of anything that resembled dignity or humanity. Even up here, she could feel her mother yanking the puppet strings—keeping the smile on her face, holding her spine in a straight line, forcing her to laugh as the bids finished with Robin's last offer.

 _Will this be my entire life? A lie? The person I truly am allowed out only in dark corners and late nights?_

Robin greeted her as she stepped down.

"Ten thousand dollars for a date," he said with a grin. "I would pay one hundred times that much for more time with a woman as beautiful as you."

Her parents joined them as he spoke. She cringed as her mother fell over him, thanking him for his generosity toward their cause.

"Perhaps we'll even have a marriage proposal by the end of the night," Cora said, winking.

"God, I need a drink," Regina said into her father's ear.

He frowned at her. "You're looking flushed already. Do you think you've had enough?"

She _was_ drunk, she realized, or nearly so. But as her mother showed Robin her wedding ring with the egg-shaped diamond that obscured her finger, she decided she was not nearly drunk enough.

"It's just the excitement," she lied.

Henry Senior excused them from the others, asked for her arm, and led her to the bar.

"Daddy," she said when she clutched a tumbler four fingers full of whiskey, "how could you?"

"How could I what?"

"You know I don't want to date Robin, much less marry him. You know I'm already _involved_." Her voice lowered on the last word.

"Yes." The look he gave her was so pointed it seemed to prick. "With some mystery person that your mother and I fear we'll never meet. Regina, must we discuss again what is best for this family? It's been so long since we've seen you with a man. We worry you've strayed back to, to—"

An image of Emma naked beneath her reared to the forefront of her mind.

"Stop," she said, stumbling back at the force of her command. "Don't go there."

He took her arm. "Regina, please…"

 _Here it is,_ she thought, _the point where I shatter into fine powder._

Inside she raged, screamed at him and her mother, left Robin standing there in the dust of their family drama. She could feel the anger swirling, eager to be birthed from her, but she faltered.

 _Not now, not in front of all of these people. My reputation…_

She tamped it down as her mother dragged Robin over to where she stood with her father.

Cora's eyes jumped from Henry Senior's stiffened form to Regina's miserable expression, and she took control of the situation.

"My husband is known for his collection of cigars. Perhaps he'll be kind enough to share one with you," she said, transferring Robin in the older man's care.

Then, she grabbed Regina's arm so tightly her nails sunk deep into the skin.

She allowed herself to be dragged from the bar, liquor sloshing, until they exited onto the balcony.

"It seems you need some air," Cora hissed. The older woman refused to release her arm, grip biting until pinpricks of blood rose to the surface.

"Mother, please," she said, half-heartedly attempting to free herself.

"How many chances do you think you'll get, Regina? You'll be forty years old before you know it. Robin could be your last chance at a decent marriage proposal. Do you want our family to fall into obscurity? Have you forgotten our…"

"Your financial troubles?" Regina spat. "No, I haven't."

Her mother's hand snapped up and slapped her across the face. "Watch your tone."

She stared at her pumps, tears collecting in her eyes, though she'd endured far worse.

"For God's sake, do you want your son to grow up impoverished? Do you want to see our legacy die?"

She could hear the desperation in her mother's tone.

"Soon our name will be all we have, Regina, unless you do something to change that."

When she remained silent, her mother turned away. "If only your brother were here."

"Yes," she whispered as the anger bloomed in her once more. "If only Zeleno were here instead of me. I know, Mother. I've heard it a thousand times."

"And yet, you continue to disappoint me. Can you not do anything right? Just marry Robin. Just do this _one_ thing."

Her hands curled into fists. She raised her glare to meet her mother's. "My entire life I've tried to please you. I've tried to do everything right, but you accept _nothing_."

"You will marry Robin." Her mother's eyes were steel.

"No." Inside, she was fire hot enough to melt anything. "I'm leaving."

"You won't." Cora moved to block her path.

For the first time in her 35 years, she realized she stood taller than her mother.

Her heels gave her strength. "Goodbye, Cora."

She stepped around her and stalked back into the warm country club.

"I'll cancel Henry's birthday party if you leave," Cora shrieked.

Regina's heart stuttered. She turned around, catching the dozens of eyes that watched them. At the feel of guilt and cold sweat sliding down her spine, she almost gave in.

"I'll be sure to explain to him that was your decision," she managed.

As her mother gaped, she fled. She raced through the halls, not even stopping to gather her coat. She barricaded herself within the Benz and started the ignition with hands shaking.

As the clock face swam with her drunken tears, she realized she couldn't drive in this condition, not if she wanted to make it home safely.

Fingers freezing, she fumbled with her phone until she found Emma's number. She listened to the rings, for once not caring if someone saw the blonde pick her up.

By the time, Emma arrived in her Bug, her Benz had warmed, and her drunkenness had retreated.

"We'll take your car," she said briskly as she entered the rattling deathtrap. "The Bug will be towed if someone from the staff sees it here."

Emma reached for her, brows furrowed. "You okay?"

She shied away from the hand. "I don't want to talk about it. Just take me home. Please."

The blonde drove without arguing.

As they puttered down the black roads, Regina ripped off her mask. She eyed the substitute teacher, not missing the concerned frown that tipped down her pretty mouth.

At any other time, on any other night, she would have hoped that Emma would pull to the side of the road, ask her what was wrong, and make love to her until all was right. But not now.

Now, she was too consumed by the years of impotent fury that constructed her into the person she was today to let someone touch her that way.

 _I don't know if I can ever be with her. Not the way that she deserves. I'm too damaged, too volatile, a grenade with a loose pin._

But there was one way that they could be together. At least for tonight. And it was the only way she knew how to be with someone when the anger filled her—the only way she'd been able to be intimate with all those women in all those hotel room for all those lost years.

"Emma," she said, "I want to dominate you."

 **XX**

 **Soooo, I'm guessing everyone knows what's coming in the next chapter. Would you like to see the following chapter from Regina's perspective or Emma's? Whichever vote gets the highest numbers of reviews will be the one that I pick, so lay your claim!**

 **Thank you for reading, my lovelies!**

 **(I'm well aware domination should NEVER happen in anger, but, well, our lovely Regina has much to learn. Perhaps Emma will help her with that? The next chapter may be disturbing/cause trigger warnings for some. Feel free to skip it. The BDSM scene will be contained in that chap!)**


	21. Chapter 21

**This chapter took me FOREVER to write. Sorry about that! As I warned in the last chapter, this chapter contains angry BDSM and questionable consent on Emma's part, due to the fact that she doesn't know what Regina will be doing to her. That said, if any of this trips a trigger for you, skip this chapter. If none of that bothers you, then read on!**

 **I tallied up everybody's votes, and the majority of you wanted to see this chapter written from Regina's perspective. So here it is! If you enjoy, please review, fav, and follow! :)**

 **XX**

Chapter 21:

Regina led Emma up the dark staircase and left her in the center of the king bed.

"Undress," she said to the blonde as she disappeared into her closet.

She felt along the wall lined with suits until her hand connected with the hidden latch. She nudged the wall, and it creaked open. Musty air trickled into her nose, along with the scent of oiled leather. Barefoot, she stepped onto the unfinished wood planks and found the string to the overhead light.

As she gazed at her toys—the corsets, the studded halters, leashes, wigs, and whips—she smirked. If only her mother knew what she'd done to the extra closet space—walled it off and made it her secret playground.

"'G-Gina?"

Emma's voice trembled as it carried to her ears.

"I'll be there in a minute, love," she replied.

Briskly, she chose several toys and reentered her bedroom.

In the candlelight, Emma lay on her back in the center of the bed, blonde hair like ocean waves around her face. She had her knees up, legs pressed together.

A tremor ran through Regina's body. Her hand tightened on the whip she held. For a moment, she questioned her actions, her desire to mark up the fine, tanned body that awaited her, while her anger pulsed like a second heartbeat.

But she stepped forward because she knew the release that her actions would bring—the release for both of them.

She dropped the toys on the duvet and watched Emma's eyes fly open. The blonde glanced beside her at the pile, a myriad of emotions making her mouth quiver.

Regina turned the younger woman's chin, leaned over her, and captured her lips in a hard kiss. Emma melted into her at once, warm body heating the front of Regina's dress.

She pushed apart the other woman's soft thighs and captured Emma's wrists. She forced them up, into all that blonde hair. When she met no resistance, a groan cascaded from her throat.

"You remember our safe word?" she asked, pulling back a breath.

Eyes swimming with desire, the substitute teacher nodded. "Applesauce. No, apple cinnamon. God, I want you to fuck me."

Hearing those words from Emma in such a broken, feverish voice made her shiver with need. "I will. Now sit up. I'm going to blindfold you."

The younger woman complied. She sat with back ramrod straight on the bed, and Regina ran her tongue across her lower lip at the sight of the bare breasts thrust at her in offering.

She selected the black silk from the pile of toys, swept the other woman's hair into a low ponytail, and secured the blindfold over her eyes. She reveled in Emma's sensory loss—the slight part of her lips, the question in her posture, the way she followed the sounds of Regina's body as she rose to disrobe.

"Stand up and help me," she ordered.

Emma's hands sought her, the blonde letting out a small gasp as she drew the fabric down Regina's form and found the older woman naked underneath.

Regina arched into the sightless, fumbling touch, nipples hardening and clit harder. Surging forward, she caught Emma's chin in her hand once more and slipped her tongue between parted lips. She overpowered the other woman's tongue easily, kissing her until their lips bruised. She slid into the waiting, wet mouth, thrusting her tongue deep until her vision phased out from the desire to fuck, to claim, to control.

"On the bed," she growled.

When Emma failed to move away fast enough, she took her by the throat and guided her back until her legs hit the mattress and gave out.

"'Gina," Emma tried.

She ignored the apprehension in the younger woman's voice and tossed her so her head landed on the mountain of pillows.

"Unless you wish to use the safe word, be quiet," she said as she fished the restraints out from the slotted headboard. "Or I shall gag you."

She secured one thin wrist, then the next, pleased when Emma pulled but couldn't free herself.

She bent down and whispered in the pink shell of the blonde's ear. "Be thankful I'm feeling kind enough to use cuffs with padding, instead of metal ones."

Emma arched toward her, mouth seeking, and Regina took pity on her. She placed a kiss on the corner of the other woman's lips. Her fingertips trailed down the blonde's windpipe, pressed hard enough at the hollow in her throat to draw forth a whimper, then pinched without warning at the twin nipples that stood straight at attention.

She twisted the hardened flesh, making Emma's back arch off the bed. The blonde loosed a cry, and her legs fell open, revealing the wetness between them. Regina's mouth watered at the sight, remembering the way the younger woman tasted, remembering how those legs clamped around her as she orgasmed.

She couldn't wait to savor her again, but this time Emma _would_ have to wait to come.

"I thought you told me you like to be one on top," she said. She dragged her nails down Emma's body, then swirled a finger between soaked folds.

The other woman's mouth opened to respond, and Regina slapped her gently across the face. "That was clearly a rhetorical statement. I told you to be quiet."

Emma fell silent as her cheek reddened.

"Now," she whispered, "I'm going to have to punish you."

At the thought, heat exploded between her legs. The rest of the world—the rest of the night—faded into the periphery.

She grabbed the blonde by both knees and bent her back until she lay doubled, her ass exposed. She stroked one muscular, round cheek, drawing close enough to the puckered hole for Emma to whimper and twitch.

"You like that?"

Emma hesitated, perhaps expecting to be slapped again, before fervently nodding.

"What about this?"

Regina reached back to the pile on the bed. She passed over the sting of the riding crop for the wide expanse of the flogger. The cold leather warmed in her hand as she eyed her submissive.

Emma's breath raced past her lips. Her chest turned pink under Regina's scrutiny, as though the younger woman felt her gaze, despite the blindfold.

The sight sent a surge of angry desire through Regina's body. She lifted one of Emma's legs and bit the soft skin on the inside of her knee, hard enough to draw the taste of copper. The blonde tensed and cried out beneath her.

She switched to fondling her submissive's ass once more and bumped her naked pelvis up against the younger woman's warm body. With her free hand, she dragged the flogger between bare breasts, along long legs, then spun it across her bottom.

Emma writhed as the leather strips caressed her puckered hole, her slit, her clit. Then, when Regina leveled the first crack against her skin, she moaned.

The sounds of her lover's cry and the whip making contact made desperate heat bloom between Regina's legs. She gripped Emma's ankles harder, pelvis thrusting forward once more, her aching clit scraping the blonde's firm behind.

She might have to give in and fuck her soon, she thought. Otherwise, she would come all over Emma's ass—and it wasn't nearly red enough yet for that.

Unable to hold in a groan, she struck Emma across the bottom again, then again.

Redness blossomed on tan skin. Emma's cries soaked the room as her body jerked under the punishment. Regina's frame trembled as she caressed, then whipped, then caressed her submissive over and over and over.

Somewhere in it all, she lost control of her wrists, watched them move to cover every last inch of the blonde's exposed ass in stripes of red.

And still she _wanted_ to whip her harder, to flip her over and strike her back, her legs, even her arms. She wanted to treat her the way every girl who'd stumbled into her hotel rooms begged to be treated.

 _But_ —

Her hand stopped mid-blow.

She could feel the heat radiating from Emma's bruised skin.

 _Emma didn't beg for this._

Beneath her, the blonde's teeth bit at her lip. Sweat sheathed her body. Regina could sense herself pushing at Emma's limits, could sense their safe word held captive in her throat.

She did something she didn't usually do. She let the flogger fall from her hand.

"You're all right," she told the younger woman.

She guided Emma's legs back to the bed, then leaned forward to take her lips in a kiss. Emma's mouth was sloppy on hers, wet, needy. Regina pressed herself against the length of the blonde's body, and the younger woman lifted to meet her. The feel of soft skin on her own ignited fire within Regina's frame.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet," she said.

With a last hard kiss to keep Emma from responding, she rose and pulled a final toy from the pile. She pulled the harness up over her hips and tightened the straps until her favorite strap-on sat snug against her.

She crawled back over Emma. "I'd like to introduce you to someone."

The blonde's head tilted in question.

"This is the Ambrosia 3.0," she said. "A toy cock that feels as close to the real thing as I've been able to get. This model isn't even on the market yet."

She switched on the control box and stroked the strap-on with a single finger. Where the cock sat against her erect clit, she felt a delicious tremor. Unable to stop herself, she moaned.

"If you're a very good girl, maybe I'll even let you to use it on me one day," she murmured into Emma's ear. "It's been a long time, since I allowed anyone that pleasure."

The younger woman pulled at her bonds, an answering moan slipping from her mouth.

"Would you like me to fuck you now?" Regina asked. "You may use your words to answer me."

"Y-yes," Emma stammered.

"Good girl." She positioned herself at the blonde's entrance. "You now have permission to be as loud as you like. I've found I quite enjoy your…expletives."

One finger pressing down the tip of the cock, she used it to stroke Emma's swollen clit. Streaks of wetness coated the underside of the strap-on, and Regina's clit ached where answering vibrations caressed it.

"God, 'Gina," Emma moaned. "P-please don't tease me."

She needed no further permission to enter her submissive.

She pushed inside slowly, feeling Emma's walls clench tight, then release to accept the length. She added an inch at a time, though the building pressure in her clit made her want to take her submissive all at once and fuck her until she spilled inside.

"More," Emma said, her hips jerking. "Faster."

She gasped. The motions were almost enough to send her over the edge.

She bent the younger woman's legs back up to her chin, immobilizing her, then shoved the cock in the rest of the way. "Better?"

In response, Emma groaned low in her throat.

Smirking, Regina slid out to the tip. She bathed in the sight of the captured woman beneath her, of the now wet strap-on between her legs.

As she watched Emma tense in anticipation, watched her struggle to claim the cock once more, her hips rocked back and forth of their own accord.

She wouldn't be able to stop now. Not if her life depended on it.

She plunged deep, the younger woman's walls swallowing her, kneading her, threatening to suck out her soul.

"Fuck," she cried, thrusting harder.

She smacked Emma's heated ass, then clenched it, determined to control her rising orgasm.

Despite Regina's desperate hold, the blonde's entire body surged up to meet her. They set their frantic rhythm like a well-practiced dance.

"Harder," Emma begged.

Moving her hands to the younger woman's bound wrists, she complied. She tilted over her submissive's body, so her pelvis stroked the exposed clit with every thrust.

From that position, she watched a drop of sweat splatter from her chin between Emma's trembling chest. She watched herself disappear deep inside the blonde's pliant body.

The pressure between her legs grew, almost painful now.

"I can't hold on much longer," she growled, nails scraping Emma's arms. "I'm going to—"

Her lover moaned in response. "God 'Gina, I want to feel you come in me."

As she spoke, Emma's mouth opened wide. Her back arched, and Regina felt the clamping of inner walls vibrate against her clit.

"Yes," she groaned. "Come for me, Emma."

A cry shredded the younger woman's throat. Her hips jerked faster on the cock, riding it hard, until she went stiff on the bed. Regina watched her lover peak, still pumping as her own release formed from the heat.

She took hold of Emma's waist as she felt the orgasm start at the tip of her clit. As she pulled to blonde down to meet her thrusts, Emma's cries grew louder.

It was that sound flung her over the edge. She plowed deep into the younger woman, hilting herself inside as the sharp sprays of pleasure rocketed through her body. She moaned, holding fast to the woman beneath her. The orgasm went on and on until she clenched her eyelids shut against it.

"Emma," she cried, as though her lover held the power to bring her back.

At last, she felt legs tighten around her waist. Emma murmured her name.

Spent, she came home and collapsed on top of the younger woman, emptied of everything—even her anger.


	22. Chapter 22

**I apologize for the delay in looooong posting. I went home from vacation at the end of May and started two new jobs and my summer graduate school classes the next day. One of my classes is over now, which should free up some time to write. I'm attempting to do Camp NaNoWriMo as well, so hopefully I'll finish this fic this month!**

 **Note: This was not a fun chapter to write. But it's one that's very important to me. Anyway, expect things to be a bumpy ride from now until the end...**

 **XX**

Chapter 22:

Emma dreamt she wore rings of ice around her wrists that froze her to her bones. When she awoke, she lay in Regina's cold and vacuous bedroom. Even the sun shining between the slates in the blinds couldn't pierce the loneliness she felt in the empty room with its weak rays.

She shook her head rubbed her wrists. Awake, they hurt even worse, a dull, unshakable throbbing. She glanced down. A ring of purplish bruises rose up from under her tan. She stared further down her body, at her stomach, her legs. She rolled over and looked at her back and bottom.

A rainbow of colors like rotted fruit marred the bare and vulnerable skin she had proffered Regina the night before.

 _I trusted her. I said yes when she told me what she wanted._

But in the watery morning light, everything felt different. Wrong. Too much like when Kathryn had come home high and drunk and a different person for the first time.

She'd been down a road like this one before. She knew it ended at a graveyard—with one buried body and another deadened heart. She couldn't walk this same path again.

Trembling, she rose and dressed in her clothes from the night before. She braided her hair—the repetitive nature of it soothing her hands and stalling.

But she would have to face Dr. Regina Mills at some point.

With a deep breath, she pulled the bedroom door closed behind herself and inched down the carpeted steps. She paused at the base. Should she make a run for it? Dive into her car and never come back?

She heard the whistle of the teakettle in the next room.

No. Her mouth quivered. There had to be more to this story than last pages like this.

In the kitchen, Regina stood with her back to the entrance, hand mechanically moving a teabag inside black mug.

"Hi," Emma said because good morning felt out of place.

The brunette jolted and turned. "Emma."

She waved an arm awkwardly in response.

"I was just fixing you breakfast," Regina said. She gestured to the mug and the plate with toast beside it. "I stole down here because I figured you'd sleep a bit longer."

"That's fine. I'm not hungry."

The older woman frowned, moved toward her. Her frown deepened when Emma took a step backward.

"Is everything all right?"

She rubbed her wrists, out of nerves and because they hurt. Regina caught the motion, and Emma watched her eyes focus in on the bruises.

"My, I hadn't realized I had you trussed up so tightly last night. I'll get an icepack."

She found her voice as Regina opened the freezer.

"I don't think an icepack will help."

"You don't? Would you rather have a bag of peas or something? I suppose that's more flexible."

"Regina," she said. "Look at me."

Slowly, the principal closed the brushed stainless steel door and did as she was told.

"My entire body is covered in bruises. I need an ice bath, not something five-year-olds put on their knees when they fall off a bike with training wheels." She lifted her shirt. "Look at what you did to me."

"You're angry."

"Yeah, I am."

The older woman rested her palms on the marble island and leaned in. "Why? You consented to this. You didn't use the safe word."

"I didn't know what I was consenting to. I didn't know that I would wake up looking like a truck ran over me."

"The bruises will fade. Your skin is soft. I forgot it would be, since something like last night is out of the ordinary for you."

Anger exploded inside of Emma, sending bullets through her veins, making her see red.

"Don't treat this like some kind of business exchange. I didn't ask for this. I didn't know what _this_ was. And now you're blaming me when clearly you're the one with all the experience?"

"When we first started all of this, you indicated you liked being the one to tie girls up. I thought you knew about this world, _my_ world."

"Your world." She spit the words. "Regina, I'm telling you that I'm telling you I'm hurting. I'm telling you that you hurt me. Can you leave your world for a minute and recognize that something here has gone very wrong? This isn't how BDSM is supposed to be."

As the last word left her lips, the brunette crumpled like paper. Her grip on the marble top gave out, and she sank beneath the island. Just before her face disappeared, Emma saw the tears.

She hesitated for a moment before stepping around the island. She found Regina with her knees drawn to her chest and her head buried in her hands, sobbing.

"Why are you crying?" she asked after a long moment.

"Because," Regina said, "you're right."

She waited.

"I lay awake all night last night. I wish I could take it back. Take back how hard I hit you, how many times, and how angry I was when I did it. I've realized too late that I wanted us to be different, but that I'm afraid I'm incapable of changing. And—" She raised her tear-streaked gaze to meet Emma's. "—and a part of me hoped that somehow you would wake up this morning and be okay with all of it, so that I wouldn't have to try."

The anguish on Regina's face should have tugged at her heart, but the nausea in her belly overpowered anything other than her own need to survive, to get out. She moved to leave, but then the brunette spoke again.

"My mother's mother never treated her well, not like she treated her sons. Sometimes I think my mother learned to despise women from her, even me. Especially me. Because God or the universe decided to take my brother to an early grave, instead of taking me.

"So I should hate women, too, right? And maybe I do, or did. But as I matured into an adult, I realized I was attracted to women. I could never be straight. I couldn't even do that right when it came to continuing my family's legacy."

"Do your parents know about your sexuality?" Emma asked.

"I told them many years ago. I had a girlfriend in college. My father was disappointed. My mother was…terrifying, more so than she'd ever been before. And I had lived through her slamming my head through a glass door, lived through her locking me away in my room for weeks, lived through her beating me until I passed out in front of the fireplace one winter for coming home late. They pulled me out of college for a semester, and when I finally went back, my girlfriend was gone. No one knew where she went. No one seemed to remember her. It was as though she'd been erased.

"So I decided that I would fix myself. I would never endanger another woman by exposing her to my family as my lover. I found a wealthy boyfriend, planned to marry him by the end of college. But I decided I wanted a child, and he wanted to live his own life for a few years longer. I left him—another stain on my soul in my mother's eyes.

"I took the job at Storybrooke Prep after graduating. My father helped me with my pregnancy in secret. By the time my mother found out, I was too far along for her to do anything other than what would have been seen as murder in any court's eyes. Henry has been enough for me to love. And the women I've seen…I've met them all in hotels for short, sweaty hours to kill the desire and the rage inside me. I thought it was enough. I thought it was all I would ever know until your file came across my desk for Mrs. Blanchard's position."

Emma slumped down across from Regina, pulling at her sleeves, so they covered the bruises on her wrists. "I'm sorry all of that happened to you."

A brittle laugh tore from the older woman's throat. "Please, don't be sorry for me. I'm the one who should be sorry. I promise that it was never my intention when all of this started for me to hurt you."

"But you did."

"Yes." Regina straightened her back. "I did."

"So what happens now?"

The brunette held out her hands, face up. "I don't want to be in control of this any longer. I leave it entirely up to you."

"That's not fair. You should tell me to leave you."

"Is that what you want me to say?"

Here it came, the flood of emotions that had been missing. Emma felt the backs of her eyes grow hot. Fat tears leaked down her cheeks, and a sob broke open her throat.

 _Yes. No. Yes. I don't know._

She only knew that the heart she had sheltered for so long after Kathryn's death, that had just now begun to feel free now felt like a fish out of water, gasping for air, dying in the dirt.

"You should tell me that you'll work on getting better."

"I will. I'll do that for you. I want to be different."

"Your mother isn't some monster under your bed. She's an old, frail woman. God, Regina, you're taller and stronger than she is. I know she hurt you, but why do you let her run your life?"

The brunette shrugged, the gaze she sent back helpless and empty.

"Look what happened when you took your life into your own hands. You had Henry."

That drew a faint smile onto the other woman's lips.

"So promise me," Emma begged. "Otherwise, I know I'll have to leave."

"I promise. I'll get help. I'll seek therapy."

"Good." Slowly she rose to her feet. "Your car is still at the country club. I should take you to get it."

"You're right. Thank you."

"After that, I think it might be smart if we didn't talk for a couple of days, maybe not until Henry's birthday. I just…need some time to process everything."

Hurt shone like a beacon on Regina's face. She could understand why. The other woman had just bared her soul, shared some of her darkest secrets, but…

Was it enough? Were stories and promises and words draped through space enough to alter the painful reality of the bruises on her wrists, on her body?

"That's fair," Regina whispered. "Take all the time you need."


	23. Chapter 23

**Well, I had no idea this was going to happen...Gotta love it when your characters surprise you. Reviews, favs, and follows much appreciated.**

 **XX**

Chapter 23:

After Emma dropped Regina off at her car, she drove home, instead of going to work. After showering, she left a message with Tink that she would be absent. Then she called another number—one she'd ignored for a long while now.

"Emma," the surprised voice said at the other end.

She bit the inside of her cheek to keep from crying. "Hi, Mom."

"Emma, what's wrong?"

The Mother Superior who'd taken her in after foster home after foster home dumped her, who helped her graduate high school and get into college would always be the closest thing to a parent she'd ever known.

"I don't want to talk about it on the phone," she said. "Could I come visit?"

"You know the Convent is always open to you, my dear."

"Thanks. I'll be there soon."

She hung up and searched for her purse, even tearing apart her Bug to find it, but she came up empty handed. She thought back to the night before.

She'd carried her bag with her when she went to Regina's, but she hadn't remembered to take it with her when she left.

"Fuck," she muttered, kicking the dashboard with the heel of her boot.

Her wallet, her credit cards, her cash, all of it still sat somewhere inside that monstrosity of a house. And not only that, but she'd left the CD she'd burned in it.

 _I wanted her to hear the song I wrote. But that was then._

Now her music felt like something to protect, to hide, a shard of her soul she still had left, one that the other woman hadn't already claimed.

With snowflakes swirling in the sky, she tilted her head back and cried with her mouth open and lungs heaving.

 _Why'd I have to fall for her?_

She could see Regina on top of her, could feel her moving inside like the memory was reality. Then, so much of it had felt so good.

 _"…_ _a part of me hoped that somehow you would wake up this morning and be okay with all of it…"_

Regina's words echoed in her mind.

 _If only I was younger and my heart hadn't had to be glued back together, then maybe I could have been. Maybe I would have even liked this game._

But she'd tried her damnedest to be okay with everything Kathryn did. She'd stayed long after she should have. And where did that lead? She'd wound up at a funeral in a park while it stormed with clouds as angry as the ones overhead today.

She sobbed as she started her car.

Maybe she shouldn't drive. Maybe it wasn't safe, said the small voice in her mind. But she cranked up the radio to overpower it and hit the highway.

She was halfway to the southernmost tip of Maine when the storm fell upon her in earnest. Her wipers worked the windshield as best they could, but even with her heat cranked up, ice crept over the glass.

"Fucking global warming," she muttered.

She leaned closer to her steering wheel to be able to see. But it didn't help. She didn't see the semi swerving in her direction until it was too late.

Screaming metal slammed into the Bug. The impact snapped her neck sideways, and she lost her death grip on the steering wheel. She must have cried out, but there was so much noise she couldn't hear herself.

They were nearing the guardrail, she saw, their conjoined and sparking vehicles skidding across ice-slicked asphalt. What lay beyond?

The ocean.

Her hand was bloody as she reached for her phone. She managed to unlock it, to bring up recent contacts. As she pressed down on a number, another car struck from the other side.

Her vision shrank to pinpricks of violent light. She heard ringing as though she lay inside an abandoned manhole, looking up at the world above.

"Hello? Hello? Emma?" the voice on the other end called.

She wanted to say, "Mom?" But the person didn't sound like Mother Superior, and she'd long ago left the cross she wore in front of Kathryn's headstone. She gave up trying to piece together fragments, gave up trying to stay awake.

The pinpricks of light in her eyes went out like two matches in an airtight space.

#

Would she ever wake up without pain again, Emma wondered as her eyelids fluttered.

The room around her swam. Artificial sleep held her captive, refusing to allow her head to clear or her cottony mouth to open.

She drifted on a sea in between awareness and heavy blackness, hearing murmurs and bodies move around her. Someone held her hand through it all. She wondered if the person was an angel—and if they tethered her to the world of the living or tugged her toward death.

When she came to fully, she remembered that thought, and she laughed at it.

"Emma?"

She'd been laughing out loud, she realized, as her vision focused in on the petite, brunette who sat on the corner of the bed.

"Wha—?" She pulled her hand back in surprise. "Regina? Where am I? What's happening?"

"You're in my guest room. Do you remember anything? Do you remember calling me?"

"I called you?" She pulled the sheet up tighter around herself. "I didn't mean to. I meant to call—"

"Your mom," Regina finished. "You know, I've never heard you talk about your family before."

"She's not my mother," Emma muttered. "Jesus, did you go through my phone, too, while I was at the hospital? What kind of Mills family power play did you have to pull to get me out of there and bring me here?"

"Emma, look around you," Regina said slowly.

Glaring, she took in the EKG monitor, the IV attached to her arm, and the array of other machines and tubes that surrounded her.

"The ambulance brought you here where our family doctor was waiting to see you. The police, who arrived at the scene after I called them, were the ones who looked through your phone. They supposed you must have made a mistake in calling me. You didn't even have my number saved?"

Emma dropped her eyes back to the blankets.

"You're saved in my phone," Regina said, holding her cell under the blonde's nose.

She read her name, saw Swan followed with a heart emoji.

"That's great," she snapped, shoving away the brunette's arm. "Probably because I didn't beat you."

"Well, I can see the concussion didn't improve your mood."

She caught the older woman's gaze. "I wanted to be _away_ from you for awhile. I left town to get away from you and us and everything that happened because I need time to think about it. Then I wrecked my car in a snowstorm and ended up right back here. Do you get why I'm a little pissed off?"

Regina opened her mouth to respond, but a knock on the door interrupted her.

"Come in."

An older man in a white lab coat entered the room with a clipboard and a small cup of pills.

"Ah, good," he said, "I thought the pain might wake you up right about now. Don't worry, I have something for you."

He handed the cup to Emma with a kind smile. She picked up the water bottle from the side of the bed and swallowed every capsule without asking what they were.

"So what's wrong with me?" she asked after taking another swig and wishing for something stronger.

"You have a minor concussion," the doctor replied, "and a laceration by your left ear that will heal fine without stitches. Other than a lot of bumps, bruises, and minor scraps, you made it through relatively unscathed. A miracle, to tell the truth."

"How's the other guy? The semi driver?"

"He didn't get off quite so lucky, but they have him stabilized down south."

"Was anyone else hurt?"

"There are some others in the hospital, but with any luck, they'll all be just fine."

"And my car?"

The doctor exchanged a look with Regina. "Well, all I can say is I hope you have a good insurance policy."

He nodded to her and exited the room.

"My Bug," Emma breathed, her vision clouding up. "No."

"I'm sorry," Regina whispered. "This is all my fault."

"Unless you caused the snowstorm, you don't get to take all the fucking credit," she said, flopping back down against the mattress and wincing when it hurt.

"Emma…" She felt Regina's fingers close around her ankle.

Maybe it was the effect of the drugs, maybe it was her weak heart, but it felt good to be touched so gently.

"Is Henry here?" she asked gruffly to distract herself.

"It's the middle of the afternoon. I'll have to go pick him up when school gets out."

She wanted to see him. She didn't want him to see her like this.

"Why?" she whispered.

Regina must have known what she meant, must have sensed all of the tangled paths down which that question led, because she simply said, "I don't know."

The drugs made her fuzzy and sleepy, but the feeling of the brunette's palm on hers through the blanket kept snapping her out of her rest.

She wanted this woman to touch her, today and for all days. But no, she didn't, not after how her body had been disrespected. She wanted to see Regina become the woman she could be, the woman she deserved to be. No, she wanted to be on a boat with Killian where there were no roads and no rules.

When the next knock came on the door, Regina rose to answer it.

Though she missed most of the conversation, she heard the doctor ask whom he should bill.

"Me," Regina said lowly.

"Not your mother?" he asked.

"No."

"And not the patient?"

"Bill me," the brunette said. "This is my life. And she's my girl. It's about time I took responsibility for both of those things."


	24. Chapter 24

**A bit of fluff...I love the way Henry brings them together.  
**

 **XX**

Chapter 24:

Emma managed to sit up amongst a mountain of pillows when she heard the front door to the Mills' home open and slam shut. Henry's voice trailed to to the guest bedroom where she lay, his words growing louder as he drew nearer. He burst in without bothering to knock.

"Are you okay?" He charged across the carpet, bounded onto the satiny comforter, and hugged her.

She held him close, breathing in the wintery scent of his hair. "I'm doing better now, kid."

He pulled back, grinning. But when he saw the bandage on her face, his mouth turned down.

"You don't look so good."

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" she asked as Regina came to stand in the doorframe. "You never _ever_ tell a lady she looks anything less than radiant."

"Sorry." He sat Indian-style, twisting at the sheets. "Mom told me you called her when you got in the accident. Did our doctor come see you?"

"Yep."

"What'd he say?"

"48 hours supervised bed rest, but I can go to work on Monday if I feel up to it."

"Good. Our substitute teacher today was awful. He made us read in silence the whole class."

"Heaven forbid," she chuckled.

He hugged her again, then slipped off the side of the bed. "I'm going to get a snack."

He reached the door where his mother stood before he turned back. "Hey, if you have to bed in bed for two days, that means you'll miss my birthday party."

Her heart weighed down her chest. "I know, kid. I'm sorry. But I've still got a present for ya."

"I don't care about that." He looked up at Regina. "Can we postpone the party, so Emma can come?"

The brunette glanced from her son to Emma and back again. "Sweetheart, Grammie and Grandpa rented out the entire Great Wolf Lodge for you. I'm sure it's too late for them to be able to refund their deposit."

"Then we wouldn't have to postpone it. We could just cancel it. I don't need a party. It wouldn't be right if Emma can't come. We could just stay home and watch movies all weekend."

Regina let out a sigh that sounded more like a groan. "If that's what you really want, I'll talk to them."

"Thanks, Mom." He embraced her hard for a long second, then scampered from the bedroom."

"But I'm not making any promises that you'll get your wish," she called after him.

"Don't cancel his party for me," Emma said when they were alone. "You can just drop me off at home in a little while. I'll be sure to have Henry's present to him on Monday."

Regina crossed the room in clipped strides. She claimed both of Emma's hands, her mouth a firm line.

"If he wishes to cancel his birthday party because he feels it wouldn't be right to celebrate when someone he cares about is in pain, then I will do my best to make that happen…and to shield him from my mother's rage.

"As for you, you are under doctor's orders to be supervised for the next two days, which means you will remain in my care. After that, you're free to leave, but I will ensure a week of paid vacation for you to use to rest and recover. You need to be well, Miss Swan, if you're to continue teaching my son."

The other woman choked up as she spoke her last sentence. A tear escaped down her cheek. She tried to break their grip, but Emma held tight.

"Thank you for taking care of me," she whispered.

Using the pad of her thumb, she wiped the moisture away.

"I wish we could be like this all the time."

Regina nodded, pulling at the hand that Emma still held until the blonde released her.

"I'm going to call my mother," she said, "and I'm going to make you some soup."

When the door to the bedroom clicked shut, the hurting came roaring back—hurt from the accident, hurt from the night before that somehow seemed like eons ago now, and the hurt that pumped like poison through her heart.

Maybe it wasn't fair, she thought, to punish Regina so hard for her way of life when it was Emma's own past that had made their night together so painful.

 _But no. Regina had known what she was doing was wrong, too._

Perhaps they were both at fault for jumping in so deep without knowing one another…or one another's demons.

 _Yes,_ she decided, _we both have issues. But it isn't our issues that determine whether or not we can be together. It's how we handle them._

She would take the week of paid vacation, and she would go see Mother Superior like she'd planned—this time on a bus, since her poor Bug rusted in some metal graveyard now.

She wondered what Regina would do.

As though thinking of the brunette summoned her, the older woman appeared with a tray of food in her hands and her face the color of ash.

"Are you all right?" Emma asked.

"My mother isn't happy with Henry's decision," she said as she settled the tray on the blonde's lap.

"Well, no surprise there, right?"

"My father managed to calm her down," the other woman continued, "but it means hiring a private tennis coach for Henry. He'll have an extra practice a week from now until Christmas."

"Oh no."

"It was inevitable, really. They'd been hinting at it for a while now. They're calling it an extra birthday gift."

"Henry's going to hate me."

"Don't blame yourself. If anyone's to take the blame, it should be me for not shutting them down."

"One battle at a time," Emma said softly. "You can't bring down an empire in a day."

"I suppose you're right. Try your soup."

She picked up the spoon and blew on a bite of steaming vegetables. At the first bite, heat exploded inside her mouth. She coughed, eyes watering.

"Jesus, do you put hot chili flakes in everything you make?"

"Well…yes," Regina admitted.

"God, the car accident didn't kill me, but this will." She turned her silverware over in the lethal broth. "Let's just order Chinese food or something."

"But the MSG—"

" _Car accident_."

"The carbs—"

" _Car acc-i-dent_."

Regina threw up her hands. "Fine."

"Henry," Emma yelled, "get in here! Or I'll order you egg drop soup and nothing else."

When the three of them were settled on the queen-sized bed, Regina pulled up the menu to Lucky Wok on her phone.

"Want to split egg rolls or Crab Rangoon?" Emma asked the pre-teen sandwiched between them.

"Crab Rangoon for sure."

They high-fived while Regina called the delivery number.

"Can we watch the new Star Wars movie in here tonight?" Henry asked as he arranged pillows around himself.

"Sure. I haven't seen it yet."

Regina hung up the phone. "Not until after you've finished your history homework, young man. Emma can't be up too late tonight, so you'd better hustle. Dinner will be here in 30. How much do you think you can have done by then?"

"All of it." Henry sprung off the bed and raced out of the door like he'd ingested rocket fuel.

"You've learned a trick or two in your day," Emma said, staring at the trail of imaginary dust he left behind.

"You're not too bad with him yourself."

"Thanks. I can promise you it's all guesswork."

The pillows Henry left behind still lay between them.

"Thank you also," she continued, "for taking care of me today."

"Of course."

Hesitantly, Regina moved each pillow one by one to the end of the bed. "Emma, I…I know I've hurt you…but…"

She gestured for silence and inched to where her head rested on the brunette's shoulder.

"I'm hurting," she murmured. "You're hurting, too."

Regina squeezed her hand. "For a long time now."

"Maybe we can try to stop hurting together?"

"I'd like that."

They lay, half-touching, listening to the sounds of Henry moving through the rooms on the floor above them.

 _Baby steps,_ Emma thought to calm her uneven heartbeat, _baby steps to rebuild the trust._

"Regina," she said after awhile, "I'd like to tell you more about myself."

"I hoped you would."

"First, can I have some more of those pain pills?"

"With dinner, dear."

She smirked into the brunette's blouse and caught a whiff of apple perfume that made her knees so weak she was thankful to already be horizontal.

"I know you don't have a good relationship with your family. I don't have a relationship with my family at all." She took a deep breath to steady her voice. "I don't even have a family. I've never had a home—not a real one. I went through the foster care system until I turned sixteen. Then I ran away, got a job, and moved into a monastery. The woman I tried to call earlier today? She's their Mother Superior and the closest thing to family I've ever had. They protected me, helped me make ends meet, and get into college. There, I met Kathryn. For a long time things seemed good…"

Regina sat quietly as she continued. Emma told her about her lover's struggle with depression, her long descent into alcoholism and drug abuse, the physical abuse, her escape, and then Kathryn's suicide.

She finished without crying.

She finished with Regina's bourbon eyes studying hers, their bodies parallel to one another on the mattress, their hands clasped.

And for the first time in a long time, she wasn't afraid of what would come next.

"So that's me," she said. "I'm probably not what you were expecting."

"No, Emma," Regina said, "you're never what I expect, but you're everything to me."

The last of the space disappeared between them. The moment the brunette's lips touched hers, all of her doubt and the pain burned away, leaving a phoenix soaring through her veins.

They kissed, desperate but careful, until the doorbell rang.

Regina parted reluctantly. She paused before leaving the room. "When I told my parents why Henry wanted to cancel the party, I told them the truth. I told them you'd been in an accident and that you were here."

"What? Why?"

"Well, the family doctor would have told them anyway."

"Oh."

"And," Regina continued, "every night before I go to sleep, I wonder if I still have wings under all my chains or if I've let them wither away. I didn't have a reason to find out before now. But, my little Swan, you've given me the courage to face the things I don't want to. And one day, I want to be able to rise up and fly alongside you."


	25. Chapter 25

**Not gonna lie...This chapter made me tear up a little. Reviews, favs, and follows are always appreciated (We're almost to 300 followers and 150 reviews!).**

 **XX**

Chapter 25:

Kylo Ren's theme flooded the guest bedroom as Star Wars VII advanced to the climax. Emma popped a quarter of a Crab Rangoon in her mouth, letting the crispy, fried corner melt and the cream cheese and crab coat her tongue.

Henry nestled under one of her arms, tucking into the remains of his Orange Chicken like Regina starved him. The brunette in question lifted the last of the lo mein noodles from a paper container, her slurping more delicate than should have been humanly possible.

As she chewed, Emma eyed the older woman, immune to the brilliant flashes of light sabers on the screen. Despite their night together that had chilled her so deeply, heat pooled between her legs. She must have made a noise because Henry's eyes jumped to hers.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Um." She shuffled her feet under the sheet. "Just a little sore. Sorry."

He patted her like she was a lost dog. "The Chinese food will make it better."

"It always does." She winked at him.

He refocused on the movie, and she refocused on Regina.

 _The structure of her cheekbones. The muscles in her upper arms. All that thick hair, perfect for me to pull._

The heat came back, stronger now.

The older woman glanced at her over the top of her son's head. She must have caught the explosive desire etched into Emma's gaze because her mouth parted in a subtle O. Emma clenched her legs together beneath the blanket in a vain attempt to stop the throbbing there.

"Henry," Regina said gently, "why don't you finish the movie in your room? It's time for me to give Emma her medicine."

"But—"

His mother leveled his words with a single look.

"Fine," he huffed.

He scrambled off the bed, knees and elbows managing to find Emma's bruises as he crawled over her. She grunted, in pain for real this time.

"Sorry." He grabbed her in a brief hug before he ejected the movie and disappeared from the room.

Without meeting Emma's eyes, Regina rose and collected a small cup of pills from the dresser.

"I don't want them," she said when the brunette walked over.

"But you're hurting."

"They make me feel weird."

And they did. They made her weak, even more susceptible to the other woman than usual. She couldn't be weak now. Not tonight.

"I'll leave them here in case you change your mind."

Regina placed them on the bedside table. Before she could think better of it, Emma's hand shot out, and she grasped the brunette's wrist.

 _Want you._

"Emma…"

She let go like the soft skin burned her. "Sorry."

 _Maybe it isn't the drugs that make me weak. Maybe I_ am _just a weak person._

"D-did any of my stuff get saved from the Bug? My phone?"

"Yes, actually," Regina told her. "I'm afraid it's dead though. And I have an iPhone, so I don't have a charger that would work."

"There's one in my purse. Can you get it for me?"

With a nod, the brunette exited the room. Emma let out the breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding and flopped back onto the pillows.

 _Fuck._

She wanted Regina. She didn't know how to stop wanting her. But she had to protect herself.

 _You can't do this to your heart again. You won't survive it._

She steeled herself for the other woman's return. She waited. And waited. But Regina didn't come back.

Finally, she heard the doorknob turn. A head of short, spiky brown hair made its way back into the bedroom.

"Did you finish the movie?" she asked when Henry reached her bed.

"Yeah." He pointed to the pills. "You didn't take them?"

She shook her head. "They don't make me feel good."

"I hate it when I have to take cough medicine. It tastes gross. Sometimes I pour it down the sink before Mom can make me drink it."

She smiled. "Speaking of your mother, do you know where she is? She was supposed to bring me my phone."

He cocked his head. "Really? She's in her room. Listening to music."

Emma's heart seized in her chest. She sat up so fast the wound next to her ear throbbed.

 _The CD._

She'd forgotten about it. But of course Regina had found it. Of _course_ she was listening to it.

 _I titled the damned thing 'For Regina' after all._

She could imagine the crisp plucks of the guitar and her stupid voice cracking as the song leaked from a pair of speakers. Her face flushed.

She kicked off the blankets and stumbled to her feet.

"What are you doing? You're supposed to stay in bed," Henry insisted.

"Miraculous recovery, kid," she told him.

Holding the back of her hospital gown closed, she lurched past the piano, through the hallway, and up the stairs to Regina's bedroom.

She threw open the door, imagining how insane she must look, like an escapee from a detox facility. She caught sight of Regina seated on the couch by the fireplace.

The music playing carried Emma to where the brunette sat, facing away, oblivious to her entry.

"From my bones, from my bones, from my bones." The recording of her voice sounded raw and unfinished to her burning ears.

She looked over the other woman's shoulder and saw the white CD sleeve captured in her grasp.

 _Where's the song coming from?_

She scanned the room and found the CD changer on top of the dresser. She crossed to where the blue lights blinked. There, she pushed the OFF button so hard, her the joint in her finger bent back.

The sudden silence assaulted her ears. She flushed even deeper.

Slowly, Regina shifted to face her. The principal's impassive gaze froze her in place.

"What are you doing?"

"I turned off—"

"Not that," Regina cut her off. She held up the sleeve for the CD, and Emma could see where the other woman had clenched it so hard the paper wrinkled. "What are you doing with my poem?"

"Your…"

Everything clicked into place—the day she'd found the writing, her doubt that one of her students could have turned in the piece, her connection to both this woman and the writing, and—

"Does Henry use the printer at home to print off his chapters?" Emma asked. "The poem was on the bottom of the last chapter he turned in to lit mag. I had no idea whose it was."

"It's mine." Regina blushed, her cheeks filling with the color of dark wine.

Not even in the throes of their lovemaking had Emma ever seen a flush like this claim the other woman's face. She'd never imagined she would see such vulnerability carving its trails through her lover—yet, here it was, taking over every inch of professionalism and bravado and replacing it with a lost, young woman who mirrored Emma's recent years so closely it hurt to look at her.

"Well, now you know everything," Regina murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"Henry, lit mag, tennis, me."

"Regina." She walked to the couch and plopped down beside her. "I'm always fucking clueless when it comes to you. Just start from the beginning, and tell me everything."

"Oh. Okay." Her lover surged forward and swept the messy blonde hair back from where it caught in the bandage on Emma's face. "My love."

The tenderness in the touch softened her more than it should have. She took Regina's wrist and pulled the brunette close, then rotated her, so that the smaller woman lay nestled in her lap.

"If I'd been born in some other family to some other parents, I wouldn't be a principal, and I wouldn't be in Storybrooke. I would be in Boston or New York City," her lover said. "I dream about that sometimes—the life I could have had and the person I could have been."

"You would have been a poet?"

"Yes. A poet, a writer, a barista, a professor, a person with an unafraid heart, an open heart that I could share.

"But I was born to Cora and Henry Mills with a different life already mapped out. I was to be a good, quiet daughter who married wealthy to help fill our family's failing bank accounts.

"Storybrooke isn't what is used to be. Industry moved West and overseas. Buildings here sit empty. Residents no longer have the means to pay for tuition at a prestigious private school.

"And Zeleno, my brother, they had determined he would finish a degree in business, have a son, and carry forth the legacy of the Mills name. Then he died."

When her lover stiffened, Emma placed a kiss on the crook of her neck, causing her to relax once more.

"With his death, my small dreams of escaping my fate died, too. I now carried my family's legacy on my shoulders alone. When I was young, I knew two things early on that would make my entire life a tragedy—I liked looking at pretty girls more than dirty boys, and I loved writing more than my own mother.

"I've already told you how unsafe I found out telling my parents of my sexuality was. Writing was much the same. When I got to college, I told my father I wanted to major in Creative Writing, but he insisted on Education. He told me I would never make it as a poet, told me that all writers were degenerates, even Shakespeare, just look at his themes. Education, however, was a noble field, and I had a duty as his daughter to work at Storybrooke Preparatory Academy, just as a I had a duty to marry someone with an impressive pedigree.

"He sent some of my work to his friends who worked in publishing and called it helping. My poems came back drenched in red ink. His friends marked me a failure, said I would never find a foothold in the writing world. So I went into education and became a teacher at Storybrooke as I was told to do. At that point, I got pregnant in part to avoid marriage.

"Thank God for my Henry. All my tomorrows looked so dim at that point, I could barely see them. He lit my world up again. It was around the time I had my son, I realized what my father had done. He had betrayed me, crushed my muse, so that I would be the puppet that my parents needed.

"When my Henry began telling stories, then writing them, pouring all of his energy into them, I saw my life repeating all over again."

She turned tear-filled eyes on Emma. Her hands were clammy as they closed on the younger woman's shoulders.

"He has a duty to our family. He is our legacy. So I have to stop him from writing now. I have to redirect his dream while he's young. I can't allow my parents to break him the way they broke me."

"But Regina." Gently, Emma gave her lover a shake. "Don't you see?"

"See what?"

"You're saving your parents the trouble," she said, " _You're_ telling him not to write, taking away lit mag, and forcing him to focus on a sport that he hates…By trying to protect him, you're doing what they did to you."

The other woman covered her mouth with a shaking hand. "No."

"Yeah."

Emma could see the pain that assaulted her lover, making her rock back and forth on the couch.

"I'm trying to save him. I want to keep him safe."

"I know you do. But even after all your father did, even after how he hurt you…" She plucked the crushed CD sleeve from Regina's fingers. "…the ghost of your muse is still slipping through. Henry will continue to do what he's called to do, and you—you can either choose to lift him up or grind his dreams down until one day, he wakes up an unhappy adult, chasing the dust."

 _Like you. Like me._

She placed the sleeve back on the other woman's lap. "Which would you prefer?"


	26. Chapter 26

**An update! And never fear, I have every intention to follow this fic through to the end. Grad student life is just super demanding of my time, especially now that I'm in my second year. Updates may be further between, but I promise you'll continue to see them.**

 **Please review, fav, and follow! It gives me so much light within the black hole that is grad school. Love you all!**

 **XX**

Chapter 26:

"I want what's best for my son," Regina said, "and until you walked into my life, I thought I knew exactly what that was."

"Well, that's what you hired me for, right?" Emma joked.

Her lover smiled with all the gusto of a balloon deflating.

She tried again. "The good news is you don't have to figure all of this out tonight."

"You're right," Regina said. "It's getting late. You should rest. May I tuck you in?"

She nodded, wishing she could somehow repair everything…for all of them.

"Would you care to sleep in here? Or in the guest room?"

"This is fine," Emma said. _More than fine._

She strode to the slatted headboard, then tossed the mountain of throw pillows from the bed to the floor. The brunette rounded to the other side, and they took two corners of the duvet to draw it back.

The dance of their bodies felt so natural, so familiar that Emma could have sworn they readied for bed together like this every night.

"I'll join you in a minute," Regina said.

Nodding, she clambered between the sheets. Her lover switched off the light to the room and entered the adjoining suite. Emma closed her eyes to the sound of water running.

How peaceful this all was. So why was her heart pounding so hard she could feel it threatening to jump through her ribs?

Regina exited the bathroom at last. "Goodnight, Henry," she called from her doorway. "Don't stay up too late. It may be your birthday tomorrow, but that doesn't mean you don't need rest."

A muffled "'Kay, Mom" greeted their ears, then the older woman pulled the door shut.

As Regina slid under the covers, the whisper of silk pajamas ghosted over Emma's flesh, and she jumped.

Her lover propped herself up on an elbow. "Are you all right?"

Was she? _What_ was she? A tumbleweed of emotions heading straight into a sandstorm, that's what she was. And all of her tangled branches—excitement, desire, fear, anger, love—bunched up in her throat and made it hard to form words.

"I'm a mess. Maybe I should have taken those pain pills," she replied.

"Would you like me to get them?"

Her lover rose, but she caught Regina before she could leave. The warmth of the brunette's skin softened all the brambles that poked at her insides.

"Stay."

Regina relaxed back onto the mattress. Emma didn't release her. In the darkness, they held one another's gaze with such care they could have been robin's eggs.

Finally, the brunette inched across the space. Emma received her, running a finger down the hard muscles in her lover's arm.

"May I kiss you?"

She couldn't remember Regina asking her for anything. The principal demanded, and it worked for her.

The change in tone caught her heart off-guard.

"I want to kiss you until you forget that you're hurting," the brunette went on. "I want to hold you and make love to you until—"

Emma threw caution out of her mind and gave in to her body's desire. She crushed the other woman against herself and kissed plump lips like she would die if she didn't.

At once, Regina responded. Her mouth opened, and a deep moan rose in her throat. Emma drank in the sound, drank in the taste of her. She lost the rest of her reason as the apple scent invaded her nostrils.

Heat coiled in Emma's lower belly. Her hips thrust forward without her consent. Regina responded by grinding her smaller frame against the blonde's, as if she could fuse the two of them together with her willpower alone.

She wanted to tear off the older woman's pajama bottoms. She wanted to bury her fingers inside wet velvet, her palm on Regina's swollen clit. And she wanted to fuck her lover until they were fixed.

Somehow though, they separated instead.

They lay with their labored breaths combining.

"So what did you think of my song, aside from, you know?" Emma asked when the sharp spear of her desire retreated enough to let her speak.

"It was beautiful, the most beautiful thing I've ever heard," Regina whispered.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. It—it made me want you inside me, and I haven't wanted that since…college."

"I'm…" She didn't know what to say. "…honored."

"But it's been so long, I'm afraid it might…hurt."

She lifted Regina, so that the brunette straddled her. "It shouldn't hurt, but if it did, I'd stop. I would never want to hurt you."

She saw the flash of agony in her lover's eyes. "I don't want to hurt you either."

A tear dripped onto Emma's chin. She wiped the salt from Regina's face.

"So let's not hurt each other then. At least, not on purpose."

"Yes."

"Good."

As their bodies pressed together, she wondered where things would lead next. She could feel the heat from between Regina's legs on her stomach. All of her resolve had already left her, and need replaced it.

Her hands trailed over the curve in her lover's spine, then up the bend her in toned legs. She nudged aside the silk pajamas, expecting to be stopped.

Instead, Regina's breathing sped up. Her pupils expanded.

 _Fuck it,_ Emma thought. _I almost died today. I might die tomorrow. I may as well die happy._

But as her fingers sloped up her lover's thigh, Regina stopped her.

"I…want it," the brunette promised, "but I want you—us—to be well first."

Regina kissed her, lips soft and careful, before she slid off Emma's body.

"Let me hold you then," Emma said.

She wound her arms around her lover's smaller body, breathing in the familiar scent of Regina's neck.

They slept nestled against one another, Emma's slumber dreamless as it always was when she spent the night in Regina's arms.

#

Aches in Emma's bones interrupted her rest before the sun came out. For once, she woke before Regina. The brunette slept turned into Emma like a child, one hand tucked under her chin. She looked years younger with the furrow in her brow surrendered to sweet dreams.

Emma's gaze rose over her lover's head to where the blinking alarm clock read 4:38 AM. She untangled herself from the warmth of the bed and the perfect, soft body still buried inside it. Without sound, she slipped from the cold bedroom and down the hall to where Henry's door sat half-open in the dark. She nudged it open the rest of the way, stepped through a minefield of books and toys, and touched the boy's shoulder.

"Wake up, kid," she whispered.

Blurrily, Henry came to life, grumbling and rolling over. "Emma?"

"Happy birthday," she said.

She could see his grin, despite the darkness. It shone like a beacon, like something for which her heart had searched. But she clamped down on the dangerous feeling of being home because of what she had to do.

"I have to go," she told him. "I'm sorry I can't stay to celebrate."

"Why do you have to go?"

She tilted her head down as she blinked back tears. "I got hurt bad, bud. I gotta go get well. But I'll make this up to you. I promise. I've got you a present and everything."

"A present? What'd you get me?"

She forced herself to linger in his moment of childish happiness.

"You'll have to wait to find out, won't you? For now, all you get is a hug."

He all but tumbled into her embrace. She breathed deep his sleepy scent—fresh laundry and little boy smell, like a stuffed animals drenched in afternoon sun.

"I wish you didn't have to go," he said, voice small.

She squeezed him hard. "Me too."

She waited until he'd hugged himself out to pull away. With a last tussle of his hair, she stood.

"Go back to sleep, okay? It'll still be your birthday when you wake up again."

She heard him flop back onto the bed as she navigated back to the door. She'd reached it when his words found her once more.

"When you get back, that'll be the best birthday present."

She left without responding, using the door as a shield to hide her shuddering sobs from him.

She caught the 5:35 AM southbound bus, hair a mess, tear tracks still carved into her cheeks. She clutched her bag close as she stared out the frosty window.

 _I hope I made the right decision. Leaving._

Or was she simply running once more? Heading back to the safe haven of Mother Superior's monastery the way she always had since she turned 16.

Maybe the truth was a mix of both, strands inside rope tugged two ways.

"No," she said aloud, startling the man out of sleep who sat beside her.

"Sorry," she mumbled as he glared.

 _I'm not running. Not yet. If I run, I'll go to Killian and join his crew. But right now, I'm still fighting._

Fighting to trust Regina.

Fighting for the love that filled her.

Fighting for Henry who was more of a lighthouse to her than anything she'd find on a fishing boat.


	27. Chapter 27

**Well, dear readers, it's only been a thousand years since I last updated. School and work have been kicking my ass! But NaNoWriMo has me back and better than ever (or so I hope). Also, no edits because that isn't in the spirit of NaNoWriMo. Besides, I just wanted to get some content up. :]**

 **Thank you all for loving this story so much and inspiring me to never give up on it! XOXO**

 **XX**

Chapter 27:

Emma stepped off the bus that had taken her out of Storybrooke with a single bag. As she stared up at the imposing stone front and stained glass window of Our Lady of Mercy, she felt as though she'd been sucked back through time.

She was a teenager again, out of breath and red-cheeked, a runaway from another failure of a foster home. But that time had been different. She had a job and could pay for a room at the monastery.

She'd snuck down from the room she shared with two other foster kids every night for a month, researching places cheap enough for her to crash with her $7.50 an hour, pizza-throwing position at Hungry's. The first time she stood on the sidewalk in the exact position she occupied now was the first time she believed maybe there was a god after all.

Now she stood here again, hoping that someone—Mother Superior or God—had the answers to the questions she carried along with her luggage.

She reached the wooden doors and used her shoulder to shove one inward. A breath of warmer air bathed her body, an exhalation from the empty cathedral. But other than that, the cathedral sat empty. Or so she thought until a figure appeared from behind the pulpit.

"Mother Superior," Emma said, recognizing the woman at once. "Mom."

She dropped her bag and hurried down the stone path between the pews. The woman caught the full force of Emma's hug as the blonde picked her up and squeezed her tight.

"R-ribs," Mother Superior gasped out.

"Whoops." Emma set the smaller woman back on the ground. "I'm sorry. I'm just so happy to see you."

"You're all right, darling. I'm just not as young as I used to be. It's been awhile since you came to visit."

Emma took a moment to look, to really look at the woman who'd taken her in all those years ago. Mother Superior did seem older—her face lined like gently crumpled paper, the bags under her pale green eyes carrying a little more weight. Still, she wore the rosary Emma recognized, the wooden beads the color of a dusky rose, and the cascades of the older woman's grey hair hid as they always did underneath her bandeau.

"You look beautiful," Emma told her.

"Well, thank you, darling." Mother Superior patted her arm. "But something tells me you didn't come here just to pay me compliments."

Emma dropped her eyes.

"That's what I thought. Why don't you grab your bag, and I'll take you to your old room?"

"I appreciate it. More than I can say."

Emma collected her bag and followed the Mother out of the cathedral. As they strolled through the familiar hallways of the monastery, she smiled. Every time she came to visit, her old room remained empty and unrented, a few of her old clothes still hanging in the closet and the beaten-up, stuffed dog she'd brought with her faithfully waiting on the bed.

The room even smelled the way she remembered it, she thought as Mother Superior unlocked the door. Like lavender and honeysuckle from the tranquility garden just outside the window.

"Why don't you rest awhile? It looks like your journey took it out of you. I'll see you for dinner? We can talk after we eat."

Emma nodded, drawing the other woman in for another hug. When the door closed, leaving her alone, her entire, sore body sagged like the stilts that held her up suddenly snapped.

She barely made it to the bed before crumbling like a cookie onto the blankets. She curled up around her teddy bear, ignoring the buzz of her phone in her jean pockets, and fell asleep like Mother Superior cast a spell on her.

Her sleep of the dead should have been dreamless. Instead, she found herself back in the strange forest from Henry's story with the Evil Queen advancing on her prone body.

Henry stood beside Emma, his words muddled beyond comprehension. The forest wavered in her gaze as though the only strings that held it together were Emma's fear and the Evil Queen's intention.

Vines descended from the trees, wrapping around Emma's arms and legs. A pulse of terror rang through her body as all control slipped from her grasp. Then, the dreamscape broke for a moment, and she catapulted into a different time and space—Regina's bedroom and Regina's anger, Emma's body fucked into submission.

Lucid now, she attempted to yank herself out of sleep, but she tumbled deeper instead. In the forest once more, the Evil Queen advanced with her black blade brandished. Henry screamed, not at the Queen but at Emma. She sensed there was some vital piece of information he sought to tell her, but she couldn't make it out.

The blade flashed down, slicing through the bodice of her dress, then piercing the skin between her breasts. She cried to cry out, but her body was no longer under her command. She stared down in silence as the Evil Queen tore out her bleeding heart and held it high above her head like a trophy, like victory.

Emma jerked awake, face damp with tears. Her fingers scrabbled at her chest, checking for a cavity. A tormented sound came forth from somewhere buried and broken inside of her.

 _Why won't these dreams_ stop _?_

What had she done to deserve them?

Darkness flooded her old room now. Disoriented, she fumbled for the light beside her bed. She switched it on, and the faint glow of light soothed her hammering heart. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She yanked it out, glad for something to ground her to the real world.

 _I'm never going to sleep again._

She stared down at her cell. 5 missed calls, 10 missed text messages.

"What the hell? I'm never this popular," she said, the sound of her voice surprising in the otherwise quiet room.

She scrolled through the calls and messages. Every single one of them came from Regina's unsaved number.

"Fuck," she muttered. "I probably should have left a note."

Somehow it hadn't even occurred to her to tell the brunette she was leaving—or that she was doing it right after the other woman had poured out her heart…the night before Henry's birthday.

 _Who gets the award for worst timing? Emma Swan._

But at her wry thought, the memory of the nightmare flooded her once more, the trophy of her dismembered heart scarred into the backs of her eyelids.

She tossed the phone on the nightstand as though it bit her.

As she stared at it, paralyzed and poised to bolt, someone knocked on her door.

"Emma? Are you coming to dinner?"

She turned away from her cell's soft glow. "Mom." Relief filled her words.

She stood, swiped at her cheeks, and greeted the older woman in the hallway.

"Sorry," she said. "You were right about me being exhausted. What time is it?"

"Just after 7 pm," Mother Superior replied. "Everyone's finishing up in the dining hall, but I saved you a plate."

"Thanks." Her stomach growled on cue, and both women chuckled.

"How about you eat in my office? Away from the crowd," the Mother suggested.

"Lead the way."

She smiled as she trailed behind the older woman. She knew what that meant—Mother Superior wanted a drink. And she could use one, too.

They descended a flight of steps and neared the foyer of the convent. Keys jangling from her belt, the Mother unlocked the door to her office and gestured Emma inside.

Warm light filled the office as Mother Superior flicked on the light. Emma's gaze went straight to the plate of food on the ancient wooden desk. A smaller dish with a slice of coconut pie sat beside the mashed potatoes and pot roast.

Emma's stomach rumbled again.

"Well, don't just stand there," Mother Superior said, chuckling. "Dig in before it gets any colder."

She flopped down in one of the leather chairs and pulled the food into her lap. She'd heard horror stories about the food at convents, but as part of their lodging, everyone who lived here learned how to cook. Emma included. It was a passion she'd carried with her into her relationship with Kathryn, something that gave her a sense of domesticity that had always been missing from her life.

Her love for cooking had died with her ex. Until Regina.

Mother Superior plunked a bottle of Jamison on the desk before taking her seat across from Emma.

"How much?" the older woman asked as she poured herself two fingers, neat.

"Same," Emma said around a heavenly mouthful of mashed potatoes and tender beef.

Mother Superior slid a glass across the table, tawny liquid sloshing in the tumbler. Then she began to undo the pins that married the bandeau to her hair. Tumbles of long, grey hair eddied down the older woman's face and back.

Emma watched the sight, taking comfort in the familiarity of it. She'd long lost count of the nights where they sat just like this—Emma unafraid to be herself because the woman across from her became someone else. Not a Bible-thumping, God-loving saint, but Emma's family.

Mother Superior smacked her lips after her first draw of liquor. "Well, let's get down to it, shall we? What brings you here after so long away?"

"A woman," Emma answered honestly.

The Mother raised a brow. "I should have known. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't even know where to start."

"Start with your pie," Mother Superior suggested. "See if anything comes to you."

Amid bites of coconut, cream, and crust, Emma started from the beginning, recounting her first day at Storybrooke Preparatory Academy and everything that came after that.

She talked through two refills of her tumbler, talked until she told everything, even the nightmare she'd had this afternoon.

"What do you think your dreams mean?" Mother Superior asked when Emma lapsed into silence at last.

She could still feel her ribs unhinging, her heart ripped from her chest. She ached the way she had the day of the accident.

"I don't know," she murmured and lost herself in another pull of Jamison.

"I can tell you my interpretation if you'd like."

"Please."

"After Kathryn, I worried for you. You lost your spark, your…Emma-ness. Do you know what so clearly defines you?"

She shook her head.

"It's your ability to hope, to love, despite all that you've been through. But when Kathryn died, I watched that part of you wither."

Mother Superior's words were true, she knew. She'd moved away from the only family she'd ever had and gave herself over to a series of substitute gigs and women who filled empty hours but not her empty heart.

Then she drove up the winding drive to Storybrooke Prep and found herself in Regina's arms. Loving once again.

And love hurt.

The agony of it split her open just like in her dreams. The same fear that assaulted her in the forest hit her now. She couldn't hold back the sobs that flooded from her throat. She was still stiff and sore from the accident, but that pain paled in comparison to this.

Mother Superior opened her desk drawer and handed Emma a wad of tissues. "I think," the older woman said, "you understand the dreams now."

She hid her face in the Kleenex as though it were a cloud that could envelop her and carry her away—far away from the truth.

She didn't just love Regina. She loved her so much it had cracked open the cage around her heart. But that cage was a part of her, too. It had grown into her arteries, into her lungs, a shell around her raw insides. Shedding it meant nightmares and fear and hurting.

Was it worth it?

Could Regina replace her heart's cocoon, wrap around her to create a new protective layer?

"I have to call Regina," she said.

She dropped her half-eaten pie back on the desk and hurried to the door. Hand on the knob, she glanced back. "Thank you."

Mother Superior's answering smile said more than a thousand words. It gave Emma what she didn't even know she'd been missing—hope.


	28. Chapter 28

**New chapter and more on the way! We are getting to some good stuff! Please review, fav, and follow. You all are this story's life blood, and your feedback means the world to me. XOXO**

 **XX**

Chapter 28:

Back in her old bedroom, Emma eyed her phone like an enemy. Regina had neither called nor texted her after the last dozen attempts.

Should I read the texts first? Emma wondered. Or should I just go for it?

She'd never been one to go cautiously into anything, she decided, so why start now?

Taking a deep breath, she dialed the brunette's unsaved number. The line rang once, twice, three times. She almost gave up when Regina answered.

"Hi," she said before the other woman could speak. "I think I know what my dreams mean."

"Emma? What are you talking about? You didn't leave a note, didn't answer my calls. All Henry said was that you had to leave because you were in pain. I've been worried sick."

Regina's voice came through the speaker high and strained.

"I'm so sorry," Emma said. "I was so wrapped up in myself that I didn't even think to leave a note. But I'm safe. I'm fine. I went to Boston like I said. I'm at the convent now."

"I thought you were getting better." The brunette's voice lowered. "I thought _we_ were getting better."

"We are," she assured, "but sometimes you have to get away to see what's right in front of you."

"I'm glad you're all right, but I still wish you'd called sooner," Regina said, but the bite had gone out of her tone.

"That would have been the responsible thing."

"Well, when are you coming home?"

 _Home._ The word lit a torch in Emma's heart.

"I thought I would need to stay for awhile, take all the leave you gave me," she admitted, "but I think I already got what I came for. I'll be back tomorrow night. There's just one more thing I need to do."

"All right," Regina said. "You get a pass for running this time because of what both the car accident and I have done to you, but this is the only one. You disappearing was too unsettling—for me and for Henry."

"I understand."

"Good." The older woman's tone morphed into that of the brisk and commanding Dr. Mills that she knew so well. "Speaking of Henry, I've rescheduled his birthday party for next Saturday. Are you available?"

"Your parents sprang for another day at the Great Wolf Lodge?" Emma asked, dollar signs whirring through her mind.

"Not exactly. They were none to pleased about losing their deposit," Regina said. "We're having it at my country club's pool. Members can rent the space free of charge."

For a moment, Emma imagined a party free from Henry Sr. and Cora's influence, but she recognized the unfairness of the wish and quashed it.

"Sounds swanky to me. I'll be there."

"Henry will be overjoyed," the brunette said, "and so will I. Oh, and Emma…"

"Yes?"

"When you arrive back in town tomorrow, call me. I'll pick you up from the bus station. I don't want you walking across ice and snow in your condition."

 _Never mind that most of the ice and snow has already melted._ A smile kissed her face.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

#

The next morning, Emma joined Mother Superior for breakfast in the great hall. Aside from the tranquility garden with its fragrant flowers and fruit trees and the stained glass in the cathedral, the great hall was her favorite part of the convent.

She loved the way the smell of herbs and spices mingled with the sound of women's voices. She loved the infinite ceiling with its bare wood rafters, and she loved the way the large windows let in light that made the floating dust shimmer like jewels.

After drinking in her fill of the familiar sight, she inched through the line, piling her plate high with eggs, bacon, and sticky buns. When she snagged the seat next to Mother Superior, she noted the cup of coffee already at her place.

"With a teaspoon of cinnamon if I remember correctly," the Mother said with a wink.

Emma sank down beside her. "Am I really that predictable?"

"I believe it's more that some things should never change."

"True. Like the fact that you'll always be my mom."

"Always."

An hour later and stomach stuffed, Emma stood outside once more on the sidewalk that led up to Our Lady of Mercy.

"You'll not wait two years before your next visit?" Mother Superior asked.

"I'll be back before you know it."

"And maybe your mystery woman will make an appearance?"

"I hope so."

"Hope," the Mother said, holding out her arms to Emma. "Now that's what I like to hear."

As they hugged, she breathed in the starched scent of the older woman's bandeau and the faint smell of wood from her rosary.

"I'll let you know when I make it back," she promised.

Then, with a wave, she turned to catch the 10:05 bus that would whisk her deeper into downtown.

As the bus took a corner too fast, she clutched at the ghost of a pendant she once wore around her neck.

 _It's strange,_ she thought, _how returning for a day can bring everything back._

Old habits. Old memories. But the two years away had dulled the pain of losing Kathryn. Or perhaps the new love she'd found had done that.

Either way she'd felt equipped to come to Boston yesterday and seek out the woman she considered her mother. And she felt equipped to make this one last stop before going back to Storybrooke.

When the bus stopped at Central and 16th, she exited behind a half dozen other passengers. A chill passed through her as she stepped outside, and she wrapped her red leather jacket tighter around her body. On autopilot, her feet carried her in the direction of Rocking Horse Cemetery, Kathryn's final resting place.

The half-mile walk took her to a stone wall as old as the city and to the towering wrought iron gate with the iconic rocking horses carved into the top. She curled her hand around the cold metal of the gate and pushed it open. The screech of the unoiled hinges was seared into her memory.

She would never forget how the gate sounded as if it were wailing as the funeral procession entered two years past. If Killian hadn't been there to steady her while the cemetery itself mourned the loss of a life to suicide, then she wasn't sure if she could have gone in.

As she returned to the present and entered, the soles of her shoes crunched fallen leaves. Aside from that, Rocking Horse was silent and empty. She trailed through the rows of gravestones until she found the one she sought.

She could tell at first sight no one, not even Killian, had been here in some time. Moss crept up the side of the stone where Kathryn's name was engraved, and leaves piled up around the base the same way bouquets did the graves on either side.

A twinge of guilt ran the length of Emma's spine, but she nudged it aside.

"I'm here now," she said to the stone. "That's what matters."

She knelt and brushed away the leaves. There, crusted in dirt, lay the cross Mother Superior gave her—that she then gave to Kathryn.

She picked it up and turned the sterling silver over in her hand.

"I thought this little piece of metal could save you when you were struggling so much," she said. "I was wrong. You could only save yourself. _We_ can only save ourselves. And we have a responsibility to do that. I know that now."

She used the tip of the cross to dig into the hardened earth.

"It's taken me two years to figure that out, to stop blaming myself."

When she'd made a hole the size of her fist, she dropped the chain inside.

"But I'm going to leave this here anyway, so you'll always have a piece of me."

She covered the cross with loose dirt and moved the leaves back over the base.

"I'll always carry a piece of you with me."

She stayed on her knees in front of the grave for another minute, touching the limestone, tracing Kathryn's name. When the wind picked up, she stood, fingers reluctant to leave.

"Goodbye," she said at last.

Then, Emma let go.


	29. Chapter 29

**Emma and Regina are reunited at last! And some crazy shit goes down in this chapter...If you like, please fav, follow, and review! There will be a new chapter up shortly, lovelies! XOXO**

 **XX**

Chapter 29:

As sunset kissed the horizon, Emma paced back and forth at the Storybrooke bus stop. With the sky darkening, a chill more cutting than the one in Boston sprang up in the air. The red leather jacket and threadbare scarf she wore boasted no chance against the persistent wind, so she kept herself moving while she waited for her ride.

She glanced down at her watch, growling when she saw the minute hand tick past 5:30.

"Regina said she'd be here a half hour ago," she muttered.

She decided to call the brunette one more time, only to have the line go to voicemail after a single ring.

As she hung up, a vehicle stopped beside the bus station.

"Finally."

She swung her bag off the bench and prepared to open the passenger's seat when she realized the car in front of her was actually a brick red truck, not in fact a black Mercedes. The window rolled down as her face flushed with embarrassment.

"Sorry," she yelled to the driver.

"Swan, what're you doing out here? It's freezing."

Red's familiar rasp seemed to take some of the sting out of the evening air. Beside her, in the passenger's seat, sat Belle—Red's petite librarian girlfriend.

"Do you need a ride?" Belle asked.

Emma peeked inside at the mess of library books that had taken over the jump seats, as well as the space between Red and Belle.

"I don't think I can fit," she chuckled.

"Oh," Belle blushed. "These are donations to the school library. It might not be comfortable to sit on them, but—"

"It'd be more comfortable than losing what little ass you have to frostbite," Red finished.

"Thanks, guys," she said, "but my ride should be here soon."

"'Let me guess. Your ride is none other than the Ice Queen?"

As if Red's words summoned her, Regina's black Mercedes coasted up the other side of the road.

In response, Emma grinned at her friend, waved to both the smiling women inside the overstuffed truck, and hurried across the street. She opened the Merc's back door to toss in her bag and barely avoided throwing it into Henry's beaming face.

He leapt out and wrapped the majority of his limbs around her.

"Henry," she gasped in surprise, "you startled me. I almost gave you a black eye."

"Cool," he exclaimed.

She laughed, the sound a pressure-releasing valve. The intense weight of being away lifted from her shoulders. She stood up a little straighter as he untangled himself from her.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "Grammie's cooking dinner at home."

"Emma, could you and Henry continue your conversation inside the car? You're letting out the heat."

Regina's wry drawl wound through the luxury vehicle and caught Emma in its sultry tendrils. A pleasant shudder coursed through her, culminating between her legs. She almost lost her balance with the force of her sudden desire for the other woman.

How much she'd missed Regina—missed her voice, her scent, the warmth of her body—had her scrambling into the front seat.

"Hi," she said, gazing at her lover's shadowed face.

She could almost see herself moving forward, claiming the brunette's lips, despite Henry's presence in the backseat. Only the thinning rope of her will kept her from doing so.

Instead it was Regina who leaned across the console and drew her into a tight hug.

"I'm so glad you're safe," the older woman said, her lips against Emma's ear, hidden beneath the blonde's long hair.

Goose flesh peppered Emma's skin. She could only nod in response, too overwhelmed by the scent of apples to do anything more.

"I'm hungry," Henry said from behind them, "and Grammie texted me. She wants to know when we'll be back or if she should just let the casserole burn."

"That sounds like my mother," Regina intoned.

She shifted the car into drive and pulled away from the curb.

"You can just drop me at my apartment," Emma said, though it pained her to say so.

She wanted nothing more than to follow Regina into her mansion, then into her bed.

"Are you sure?"

"Emma can't go to her apartment," Henry argued. "She has to stay over, so we can drive her to school tomorrow, since her car doesn't work anymore. That's what you said."

"I did say that," Regina said. "Then, my mother made an unexpected appearance at the house." She glanced at Emma. "That's why we were late in the first place."

"Well, I don't want to cause any trouble if—"

"No," the older woman interrupted, seeming to settle on a conclusion as she spoke. "You'll come home with us as I planned. My mother will just have to get used to setting an extra plate."

Her eyes flicked to Henry through the rearview mirror. "That is, until you secure a new car."

So far, the return from Boston was a tilt-a-whirl of emotions. Regina wanted her taking up space in her vast mansion. Or did she? Was she offering up her home and car because Emma had wrecked her own? Or because she truly wanted to let the blonde in?

Then, there loomed the figures of Cora and Henry Sr. who controlled Regina and Henry Jr. in their personal puppet show.

With a sigh, she slumped back in the seat and closed her eyes. Her vulnerable heart felt too raw without its protective cage to imagine all of the trials the future held. She could only take things moment by moment.

And at this moment, she reminded herself, she shared a car with two of her three favorite people in the world. She wanted to enjoy it.

She dared to inch her hand across the console and covered Regina's fingers with her own. For a moment, the brunette tensed, her eyes darting to the backseat. The sound of Henry's favorite game floated up from his phone. Her posture softened, and she cast a small smile in Emma's direction.

For the rest of the ride, Emma lost herself in the feeling of the other woman's skin. She memorized lines, calluses, and the veins hidden beneath Regina's watch cuff. She could spend hours touching each part of her lover, learning her, worshipping her. But too soon the Merc rolled up the driveway to the Mills manor, stopping to the left of a golden Cadillac SUV.

"Prepare yourself," Regina said as she turned off the engine.

Emma took the advice to heart, steeling herself with a deep breath and an arm slung around Henry's shoulder. When he opened the front door for her, she kicked off her shoes without being told. Henry ran ahead, but she idled, unwilling to go meet the smells in the kitchen or the woman cooking without the solidness of the brunette beside her.

"It will be all right," Regina told her as she switched to house slippers.

Emma wondered if she said it to convince the blonde or herself.

Cora Mills wore heels, an ash grey pencil skirt, and two rows of pale pink pearls that complimented her matching earrings. Even bent over, removing a glass dish from the oven, she looked the picture of elegance.

Emma smoothed her rumpled shirt and fluffed her bus hair as best as she could, though she doubted it did her weathered appearance much good.

"Finally," Cora said without turning to her daughter. "That little errand of yours took an eternity. It was all I could do to keep the tuna casserole from drying out."

Emma caught the disgust that wrinkled Regina's perfect nose as she glanced at the steaming dish.

"Well, we're back now. Henry, will you please pull the salad out of the refrigerator and set an extra plate for Emma?"

At the sound of the blonde's name, Cora faced her daughter at last, mouth drawn into a thin line.

" _This_ was your errand?" the older woman asked, pointing her spatula in Emma's direction. "I thought you were venturing out for some milk or eggs or something."

"Neither Henry nor I drink milk, Mother, if you'll remember," Regina said through gritted teeth. "And Emma was in a car accident. As principal of Storybrooke Preparatory Academy, I have a duty to make sure my teachers are able to do their job. That means she needed a ride."

"I think in _her_ case you've gone far beyond your duty."

The two women glared hard enough at one another that Emma half expected one of them to drop dead.

"Emma's my favorite teacher," Henry interrupted, oblivious to the war. "Can we eat now?"

"Yes, we can," Regina said, shifting her gaze to smile at her son. "Sit down, Emma."

She sat next to Henry, watching her disgruntled lover pop open a bottle of white wine and Cora Mills dish out the casserole.

"Emma is your favorite teacher, you say?" the older woman asked as she dropped a plate in front of the blonde.

Henry nodded.

"Is that because she lets you get away without completing your assignments?"

Aside from Cora Mills who continued to calmly ready dinner, the room froze.

"What?" Henry asked. His voice sounded as small as a pea.

"That is a ridiculous accusation," Regina cut in.

"It isn't. Did you even bother to check your report on Emma's grade book before you sent it to me?" Cora asked.

 _Henry's essay on_ Hatchet. _She saw I gave him a zero._

She wanted to crawl into a hole.

"I didn't—" Regina started.

"That's right, you didn't. First, she hands out copies of _Prince Caspian._ Now, she's allowing our boy to fail. Why on earth did you hire this woman, and why haven't you fired her?"

They all spoke at once.

"I'm not failing," Henry cried.

"Emma, you never told me about this," Regina said.

"Your school should allow extra time for students with learning needs," Emma burst out.

"Henry does not have learning needs," Cora snarled.

Emma placed her hands on either side of the table and stood up. "He trusted me enough to tell me he has ADHD. His chart keeps him on a strict schedule, but you don't respect that. The assignment was due on a day when he'd spent the previous night at your house. The fact that he didn't finish it is _your_ fault, not mine."

"How _dare_ you?"

For a moment, Emma thought Cora might strike her.

Regina took her mother's shoulders in her hands.

"It's time for you to go," the brunette murmured.

"You're going to take her side over your own mother's?" Cora screeched.

"This isn't about sides."

"And this," the older woman indicated Emma, "isn't about a car accident. Your father and I know what's going on, Regina. We won't let you destroy your life, the life of your family, the life of your _son_. You're sick, but we can help you."

"Hey, kid," Emma said, leaning over to the silenced boy, "go play some video games, okay? You don't need to hear this. We'll get it sorted out, and then you can come back."

He turned watery eyes on her to nod before bolting out of the kitchen.

She squared her shoulders and faced Cora once more. "I think your daughter asked you to leave."

"And what? You're going to make me?"

 _Yeah,_ she wanted to say. _I'm going to pick you up and throw you out of this house on your facelift._

"No, she's not," Regina said, expression drawn with exhaustion, "but please, for once just respect my wishes."

"Fine." Cora flung the spatula down, specks of tuna and cheese flying off to mar the granite counter. "You throw your own mother out of the house she paid for, and you allow the trash to stay. I see where your priorities lie."

She crossed the room, and when she reached Emma, she leaned in close.

"The Board will end you. We will assure you never teach anywhere ever again."

The stench of the alcohol in her perfume lingered in Emma's nose as the older woman stalked away.

 _Well, fuck you too._

As soon as the front door slammed shut, Regina crumpled. Emma whirled when she heard the sobs and barely caught the brunette as she sank to the floor.

"Hey," she whispered as she rocked her lover back and forth, "she's not worth it. This is our reunion. We're supposed to be happy."

Regina threw her arms around Emma's neck and cried harder. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Don't be." She ran her hands through thick, dark hair. With the flat of her thumb, she mopped up the tears streaming down the other woman's cheeks.

"She knows about us."

"Seems that way."

"They'll disinherit me."

"Well, I went seventeen years before I had my first taste of family. It's not as bad as you might think."

A surprised laugh bubbled from Regina's throat. "I can't imagine my life without my parents—for better or for worse."

"I'm sure they can't imagine a life without you. That's why they try so hard to control you."

"You're wise beyond your years, Miss Swan."

She opened her mouth to respond when the other woman's lips covered hers. Emma gasped as the taste of salt and Regina filled her senses. Desire overwhelmed her body, igniting her like a forest fire. She kissed back like she was starving.

"God, I missed you," she whispered.

"Emma." Regina cupped her face and crawled onto her lap. "Emma, I love you."

"I—I love you, too, Regina."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome?"

They both burst into laughter, Regina giggling through her tears.

Emma pulled her close, listening to the mutual pounding of their hearts. She closed her eyes, willing this moment never to end.

Then, the sound of a tentative voice broke in. "Uh, Mom?"


	30. Chapter 30

Hello, Everyone-

I realize that a post is looooong overdue. And I want to be upfront-I don't have a complete chapter to upload today, but I do have updates. And I also want to assure you that this story is still near and dear to my heart, so it absolutely will be finished. Camp NaNoWriMo is right around the corner, and I'm taking a brief vacation up north over the 4th where I hope to be able to do some writing.

Here is a link to a my blog, if you'd like to read sort of a brief explanation for my absence.

And here's a snippet of what's to come...

 **XX**

Regina sprang out of Emma's arms like they'd morphed into a patch of brambles.

"Henry," she said, standing and smoothing her pants.

"What are you guys doing?" her son asked.

Emma remained on the floor—unsure of what to say, confident that if she opened her mouth, only nonsense would flood out.

"I—we—" Regina tried, but as the clock ticked on, she managed little else.

At last, Henry said, "Does Emma make you happy?"

"She…she does."

"I thought so," he said. "You haven't been happy in a long time, Mom. I like it better when you're laughing."

Regina pressed her hand over her heart. "T-thank you."

"Sure. You know, she makes me happy, too."

Emma mirrored Regina's movement, afraid her oversized love would spill out. Or worse, her tears.

Henry reached for his mother's hand. He knelt, tugging her down beside Emma. Not letting go, he hugged the blonde so hard she struggled to breathe. She lost the ability entirely when Regina joined him in the embrace.

She allowed the weight of them to push her flat on her back. As her ribs threatened to snap, she grinned.

 _Who knew two tiny creatures would smother me to death. But what a way to go._

"I think we're killing her," Henry said, his face muffled in Emma's armpit.

"I think you're right."

They released her, and she gasped for air. The spots of color dancing in her vision retreated, leaving her to gaze up at the Mills' smiling faces.

"Would you two," she said when she'd caught her breath, "do me the honor of letting me buy you Chinese food, so we don't have to eat that casserole crap?"

Laughter greeted her ears, and the mood that Cora Mills left dissipated.

"Chinese food, it's our tradition," Henry crowed, punching a fist in the air.

"I believe it takes more than a time or two to create a tradition," Regina told him.

He gave his mother the most devious of looks. "Then I guess we'll just have to do it lots and lots more."

The brunette winked at Emma. "I would like that."

45 minutes later, the three of them shared the couch in the den, a fuzzy cream-colored throw spread across their laps—covered in crumbs from Henry's first three eggrolls.

"This is my favorite part," he whispered as Jayla from the newest Star Trek movie offered the Captain's seat to Kirk.

"It's pretty good," she agreed, one hand bringing a forkful of lo mein to her mouth, the other tangling in Regina's hair behind Henry's head.

"I can't believe you've never seen this movie before."

"I'm not gonna see it now if you keep talking to me," she replied.

"Do you want to know what happens next?"

She grabbed the remaining eggroll and stuffed it between the boy's grinning lips. "No."

He giggled, and a stray thread of cabbage catapulted from his mouth onto her side of the blanket.

"Gross, kiddo," she complained with a laugh. She flicked it into his lap.

"You started it."

"No, you."

"Food fight!"

"Do I have two children in my house now?" Regina asked, stepping in at last, perhaps sensing Emma that had seriously considered dumping noodles on her son's head.

Chastised, the blonde set her remaining lo mein on the end table. "Maybe sometimes."

"But Emma can also be really responsible," Henry said, quick to come to her rescue. "Like in class."

"Yes, class," the brunette mused, and Emma felt the pit in her stomach grow worry vines.

She did not look forward to continuing the conversation that Cora started.

"Is the movie about over, bud?" she asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"I'm getting sleepy. Aren't you?"

"No way."

But five minutes later, Henry's feet rested across his mom's legs, and he dozed with his head against Emma's shoulder.

"Shall we fast forward to the credits and wake him up?" Regina murmured.

"Now that's a dirty trick."

"A parent has to have one or two up her sleeve."

"Teach me your ways, oh wise one."

The older woman's hand drifted over to brush against her cheek. "I think you already do quite well."

"Really?"

Regina picked up the remote and zipped to the end of the movie. "Really."

 **XX**

Thank you all for continuing to read and support this story. Love to you all, and I'll see you again soon...


	31. READER INPUT NEEDED

Hello, everyone! I have a draft of the next chapter written, but I can't decide on how to proceed, so I really need YOUR help! Can you please weigh in and let me know if the next chapter (following where we were at the end of the last chapter) should end with Regina and Emma have hot and steamy make-up sex, or not.

Your comments would be SO helpful because I literally cannot seem to make up my mind on this, and I want to post something!

Thank you, loves! I can't wait to read your thoughts. XX


	32. Chapter 31

**Thank you, everyone, who weighed in! I had been stressing about what to do with this situation for weeks. As was UNANIMOUSLY voted, there will be steamy, hot smut ahead! I appreciate you all reading and continuing to support this fic!**

 **XX**

After the movie ended and Henry had been shooed to brush his teeth, Emma took the hand Regina extended to her.

They ascended the stairs together, bare feet so noiseless on the carpet and the house so vast and quiet, Emma found herself wondering if tonight were real. Was she actually back in Regina's home, almost healed from the accident, and going back to teach at Storybrooke Prep tomorrow?

As though the brunette could hear her thoughts, her fingers closed tighter around Emma's trembling hand. She smiled and allowed Regina to lead her down the hallway to the the master bedroom.

"Would you like the come in?" the older woman asked.

Her lower belly all but exploded with desire. She wanted to come in. She wanted to come.

"Um, I do, but in a minute. I want to say goodnight to Henry first."

"Don't be too long."

Emma took a deep breath to calm the effect Regina had on her heart, nodded, and followed the soft patch of light to Henry's room.

She found him flopped on top of his comforter with a book in hand.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked.

" _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader."_

"That's one of the Chronicles of Narnia books."

"Yeah. I've been reading all of them after _Prince Caspian_."

Warmth flared up in her chest. She came in and perched on the edge of his bed. "Cool."

"I'm not really failing your class, am I?"

"No, kid, you're not." She cursed Cora Mills mentally. "That assignment you missed was worth a lot of points, but you're going to pass for sure."

"Will I be able to get an A?"

She hated to crush the hope on his face, but she promised herself right then and there that she would never lie to him either. "Probably not this semester, but it gives us something to work toward in the spring, right?"

"I guess. You'll still be here then? To help me? To...help my mom?"

His small voice pierced what little defenses she possessed, and her heart all but exploded. "I-I hope so."

"Me too." He sat up suddenly and embraced her.

Though he had turned thirteen, for now he still smelled like a little boy, like the pillows on his bed and the mint toothpaste that clung to the left corner of his mouth.

She squeezed her eyes shut and memorized the moment.

"Mom needs you," he whispered in her ear.

She sensed his urgency and his wisdom-the little boy replaced with a young and protective man. She feared she would cry if she didn't pull out of the hug, but she stayed until he released her because it was what he needed.

And it was what she needed, too.

At last, he lay back down."Night, Emma."

"Night, Henry." She kissed his forehead. "Want me to leave the light on, so you can read for awhile?"

"Yeah."

"But not past your bedtime, all right? We have school in the morning."

"Okay, _Mom_ , geez," he teased.

Her face heated at his response-a powerful flood washing through her stronger than anything she'd ever felt before-stronger even than her feelings for Regina. She did her best to mask her wild happiness by rising and hurrying to the door.

"Sleep tight," she managed before she exited.

"Don't let the bedbugs bite."

"But if they do…"

"Hit 'em with a shoe."

Henry's voice trailed her down the hall as she raced to Regina's room. She burst through the bedroom door and startled the other woman by picking her up from behind.

"Emma, the duvet," Regina exclaimed as the satiny cover dropped from her hands.

She set her lover down, but didn't release her.

"He called me Mom," she said, snuggling into the crook of the brunette's shoulder.

"He...what?"

"Well, it was kind of a joke. I told him that he couldn't stay up to read past his bedtime. Then he called me Mom. I mean, you remind him to stay on his schedule all the time, so he probably just, I don't know. I don't want to upset you, or-"

"Emma," Regina said, wrestling her way out of the younger woman's increasingly tight hold. She took the blonde's face in her hands.

Emma focused on the bourbon irises in front of her. "Uh, yes?"

"That's wonderful."

"Huh?"

"I said that's wonderful. I'm so happy."

"You are?"

"If the tears welling up in my eyes aren't any indication, then I'm not sure would be."

"If you cry, then I'm going to."

In symphony, they clutched at one another, mutual tears dropping into soft hair.

"God, I can't believe he said that. I love you, Emma."

"I love you, too. And me neither."

"Since I finally said those words, I'm going to say them all the time."

"Me too. Every single day."

"Good." Swifty, Regina pressed a kiss against Emma's mouth. "Now, go clean up. I can't decide if you smell more like a bus seat or a frying pan."

Even that small touch sent a bolt of heat through the blonde's body. "Your wish is my command, Your Majesty. I'll be back shortly."

She stepped out of the circle of warmth and headed to the bathroom. Before she nudged the door shut, she heard Regina ask something to the air.

"Is this the true meaning of family?"

She didn't reply because she shouldn't have overheard. And only a few months again, she would have had no answer for the brunette. The concept of family existed only outside of her understanding. But with every day that passed now, she felt more comfortable in how she would reply when Regina posed that question to her.

 _Absolutely. What else could it be?_

The hot shower water pounded out the crick in her neck from the bus ride. She emerged smelling like Regina's apple body wash with an extra fluffy towel hugging her lean form. She used a second towel to soak up as much of the water from her thick locks as she could before assaulting her teeth with the toothbrush Regina provided.

"Emma, what in the world are you doing in there?" The brunette's cranky voice filtered through the door.

"Almost done," she said around a mouthful of Listerine.

"Well, would you hurry up? It's getting late."

She bit back a grin. Regina's frustration could only mean one thing. _Somebody's having make-up sex tonight._ "Um, just a few more minutes. Maybe fifteen. Or twenty."

" _Twenty_ minutes?"

She was ready when the brunette burst in without knocking. Casually, Emma let her towel drop to her feet. Regina's initial irritation melted, her eyes falling to the towel, then trailing an appreciative inch at a time up the blonde's nude form.

"What's going on?" she all but growled when she captured the younger woman's cheeky gaze.

The only thing Emma hadn't prepared for in this scenario was the blast of cold air that followed her lover in. Her shiver ruined her attempt at being sexy.

"Oh, Miss Swan." Regina sighed. She picked up the towel and went to wrap it around the other woman's shoulders.

But Emma stopped her.

"Don't 'Miss Swan' me," she said. "I know what I'm doing."

She bent and kissed the brunette's neck. Her hands slid under Regina's silken nightshirt, short nails biting into supple skin.

"Emma," Regina gasped in surprise.

Her body curved against the blonde's length. Everywhere they touched, Emma's nerves came to life.

"You really shouldn't have bothered getting out of bed," she said in the shell of her lover's ear.

"And w-why is that?"

"Because that's where I'm taking you right now."

"I'm not sure-"

The younger woman cut off all resistance by picking her up and carrying her out of the bathroom.

"Emma, are you sure you're well enough?" Regina whispered, arms tight around her neck. "I don't want you to strain yourself."

She placed her lover gently in the middle of the bed.

"If you let me fuck you, then I'd say I've never been better."

She remained leaning over Regina, waiting for an answer, drinking in the sight of the most beautiful woman in the world through the dim light.

"I-I…"

The other woman's arms came to wind around her neck once more, tugging until Emma's cheek rested on her chest. She felt Regina's petite nose in her wet hair.

Long moments of silence passed, Emma afraid the moment broke, that maybe she'd frightened Regina with the forwardness of her request. After all, they'd been through so much in such a short time. Perhaps she needed to douse her desire and settle for closeness tonight. She opened her mouth to suggest as much when the brunette spoke.

"Emma, I think I'm ready to have you inside me."

 **XX**

 **I anticipate an ENTIRE chapter of sex to follow this. Also, if you haven't checked out my other fic, it's also Swan/Queen-a much different story than this one. It will also be updated ASAP.**


	33. Chapter 32

**Okay, okay, it was probably evil of me to leave off where I did last chapter, but I hope you'll all forgive me with this one. WARNING: Graphic f/f sex ahead. Don't like; don't read. Into that kind of thing? Then, please enjoy...**

 **XX**

Regina's words brought goosebumps to Emma's naked flesh. A lightning bolt of desire struck between her legs. She felt her lover's heart rate increase against her cheek, and every thump of the other woman's heart made it harder to stay still. But she had to be sure.

"Do you mean that?" she asked carefully.

Regina's hand came to stroke her face. One finger toyed with the blonde's lips.

"Yes, I want to feel you inside me."

Hearing the words again had the blonde's deprived clit twitching, her sex-starved and stressed body already on the brink of orgasm. After all, she knew what Regina's fingers-and other toys-could do to her. But she had yet to show some of her own skills. She nipped at the finger resting on her sensitive lips before swirling her tongue around it.

Regina's body stirred beneath the blonde. "Emma, don't tease me. It's been so long."

She cupped the blonde's chin and urged her up. Needing no further encouragement, Emma surged forward and captured the other woman's parted lips. Regina tasted like home, her mouth a cave to explore. A promise for what else she would finally taste.

Unable to stop the groan that came at the thought, Emma moved to lie more fully atop her lover's warm body. There, Regina's arms wound around her, massaging shoulders, then squeezing the blonde's lean ass. The strong fingers wrapped around her, so close to where she wanted to feel them, had Emma's hips rolling against the apex of the other woman's thighs.

Regina moaned through their kiss at the contact. Her head fell back hard against the pillows, mouth in an O. The sight of the brunette's prone form-nipples straining against the silken nightshirt, the length of her neck shadowed with corded muscles, her face etched in desire-made Emma desperate.

"You," she growled, "naked. Now."

Darkened pupils met hers in a challenge. For a moment, she thought Regina might fight her demand, remind her who was really in charge when it came to this bedroom.

But, eyes still locked on Emma's, the other woman hooked her fingers under her nightshirt and dragged it as slow as sin up her form. She revealed a taut abdomen, then the heavy underside of her breasts. The sight had Emma panting.

"What do I get in return?" Regina asked, pausing with only a hint of her wine-dark areolas visible in the dim.

"This." Emma bent and sucked one hardened nipple into her mouth, half flesh, half silk, all heat.

Her hips never stopped moving between her lover's thighs. And with the whimper that birthed from the brunette's throat, legs tightened around Emma's ass, pulling her in deeper.

"You get," she said around the mouthful of heaving breast, "this."

 _And I'm going to give you so much more._

She kissed between the valley to where her lover willingly tugged up the nightshirt to accept Emma's mouth at last.

God, it felt so good, so right, to be pressed so close to this woman that they were almost one, to have the smell of apples mixing with musk in the air.

The legs trapping her held her shaved mound flush against her lover's core. The breasts pushing against her fit in her hands, the nipple in her mouth making her ache to taste Regina's cum. The harsh breathing in her ear reminded her that she, too, needed to breathe.

Regina's hands pushed at her shoulders gently, bringing her back. "Emma, I want your mouth lower."

"My mouth is going to be on every single inch of you before tonight's over," the blonde responded.

But obediently, she began a descent down her lover's body. She kissed the hot, taut flesh, licking up the beads of sweat as they formed. When she dipped her tongue into Regina's belly button, the other woman hissed. Her nails dug into the blonde's shoulders, and a bolt of heat drove straight into the blonde's clit.

"You feel so good," Regina whispered.

"You smell so good, taste so good," she responded, nosing at the silken shorts, hiking them higher.

The scent of Regina's desire for her, and the rising heat, had her mouth watering. Without thinking, she sunk her teeth into soft, tan flesh. The older woman let out a muffled cry. Her fingers tangled deep in the blonde's hair. At first, the digits clenched out of reaction, then they grew purposeful, forcing Emma's cheek against the apex of her thighs.

Regina was damp through her shorts, her nails sharp enough against the younger woman's scalp to draw blood. The excitement, the neediness that shot through her at being handled so roughly startled her.

She liked this play, liked it a lot, despite the bruises their last encounter had left on her body. She wanted more. Much more.

Greedily, she pressed her mouth against the brunette's core, her first taste of Regina masked by the silk shorts.

"Get these off of me," Regina demanded, hips wriggling in Emma's hands.

She grinned in the dark. There came her lioness-impatient, desirous, impossible to tame.

"At once, Your Majesty."

As Regina lifted her hips, she tugged off the bothersome fabric and tossed it off the side of the bed.

"Finally," she murmured, gazing down at the naked, sculpted form of her lover.

Eyes locking on Regina's, she bent and swept her tongue from the brunette's entrance to her clit. The taste, salt and sweet, made Emma moan, her eyelids heavy. She had waited for this for so long, and it exceeded her every expectation.

And Regina was weeping desire for her, swollen and wet. Her legs trembled on either side of the blonde's head. Her fingers knotted painfully in blonde hair.

"Oh god, Emma," Regina moaned, as once again the younger woman tasted her.

"Shush," Emma murmured, though it killed her to say so. "Henry."

"I know. I-I don't know if I can be quiet. It's been so long."

The blonde sucked one swollen fold into her mouth, sending tremors through the other woman's body.

"You can. Put your hands over your mouth."

For once, her lover listened to her, clapping both hands over her mouth as Emma once again began her ministrations.

Regina tasted like heaven. Like sin. Emma wanted that scent to mark her, the way it had when the older woman rutted on her ass their first time together.

And she wanted to make Regina come.

The thought had her tongue climbing, swirling and circling around her lover's clit, drawing hardened nerves deep into her mouth, relishing in the wet sound her mouth made against the brunette's core. Beneath her, Regina vibrated, her body responding to every touch.

Soon, they were moving in tandem, Emma milking the length of her clit, Regina grinding hungrily against the blonde's face. She felt the fingers in her hair tighten even more, bringing her so close to her lover she couldn't breathe.

 _Come for me,_ she wanted to beg, her sucking desperate, almost harsh, while the other woman's hips hitched against her face. _So close._

"E-Emma," Regina moaned, voice uninhibited now that she'd wrapped herself in the blonde's hair once more.

The younger woman squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to stop, to never stop, not until Regina begged her to.

"Wait."

Feebly, then more insistently, the brunette pushed at her head.

Pushed her away.

Confused, Emma released her lover with a pop.

It took a moment for her to gather her wits enough to ask, "Wha-uh-What's wrong?"

Regina didn't reply. Only the sound of their heavy breathing filled the bedroom.

Then, she felt fingers wrap around her wrist. The brunette tugged at her until Emma's palm rested flat against her core.

"I'm going to come," Regina said, "with you inside me."

The moment that followed was a gift, one that Emma told herself never to forget.

Once again, her lover repositioned her, so that two of Emma's fingers were slicked in Regina's desire. The brunette's hips twitched, her walls clenching, like they hoped to bring Emma inside.

"You will be the first one to touch me in a very long time," Regina whispered.

"I-I…" She couldn't find the words. "It's an honor."

"Don't be so formal, Miss Swan," Regina said. She propped herself up on the pillows and cupped the blonde's chin. "Just please fuck me."

Emma ducked out of the brunette's hold to hide her smile. "It would be my pleasure."

She placed a kiss on Regina's bellybutton, then crawled up the length of her lover's body. There, the brunette cupped her chin once more, her bourbon gaze penetrating as Emma positioned herself between her legs.

"Look at me while you do it," Regina commanded.

Emma nodded, thumb testing her lover's copious wetness, her fingers pinching the other woman's clit. At the touch, Regina jerked underneath her. Her breath released in a harsh "oh," and Emma claimed her open mouth.

As they kissed, she pushed two fingers inside.

 **XX**

 **The smut train will continue in the next chapter. I have to tell you all...This whole having a break from classes and work does wonders for the time I can spend writing. Too bad I can't make this a full-time gig. But maybe some day!**

 **On that note, I entered a portion of this story in a contest that could end up in a contract with Bella Books (a flagship for lesbian publishing, if you're not familiar with them. I read my first Bella Book when I was just a LIT [Lez-in-training] in high school-It was called SUGAR by Karin Kallmaker). As I have more details, I hope that if you like this fic and you like me, you'll do me a favor and vote for A Home for Miss Swan!**

 **Pretty please! I'd do just about anything...**


	34. Chapter 33

**Here is the other half to what I hope was a tantalizing last chapter. Thank you all for the continued love you've showered on this story with reviews, favs, and support motivates me so much.  
**

 **And thank you to SwanQueen1215 and tjandcarrie for supporting this story as it hopefully takes new life in the Bella Books contest.**

 **When I have more info on that, I'll share it. You all are the best. :)**

 **XX**

Chapter 33:

Emma sank into the ocean of her lover. Under her, Regina's body rolled up against her, internal muscles clenching, a moan swallowed in their kiss. Emma moaned back as her fingers breached the only defenses the brunette had left.

Suddenly, they were no longer separated. They were one, a single heart, a single entity, tied to each other for as long as this moment lasted.

There, she paused to let Regina adjust to the invasion. But between them, the other woman's hand snaked to wrap around the blonde's wrist.

"All the way," Regina breathed into her mouth, and she forced Emma deeper.

She could feel the brunette's back walls clamp around her, claim her, dominate her, even though she lay on top.

Heat rushed through her entire being like a dam released, and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from coming. But she was so close, she could cry, and the pulsing heartbeat of Regina's core around her did nothing but intensify the height.

"You're so…" she murmured, "...hot inside."

"You did that, Emma dear," Regina replied, breathlessly. "This is what you do to me."

The brunette's hips lifted up against her, and she could feel every strong muscle, every rapid pump of the other woman's blood, inside and out.

"Emma," Regina said, and her hips hitched again. "Don't make me ask you again."

At the tantalizing threat, she began to move, slow and shallow at first, teeth nipping at Regina's vulnerable lower lip. At her sudden intrusion, the brunette's head hit the pillows once more. She moaned.

The sound was too much. Emma's fingers jerked deeper, her clit throbbing, desperate to be touched. The velvet around her responded. Regina's legs wound around her, forcing her legs together and giving her the friction she'd wanted.

She dared a look down the brunette's body, at the blush spreading across Regina's collarbones, at the pebbled peaks of her burgundy nipples, at her naked, heaving chest.

This is what you do to me.

The words echoed within her, and she began to fuck her lover in earnest.

With every stroke inside, she felt the other woman grow tighter. Her own core answered, and she was helpless to stop it. She could feel the wetness seeping between her legs as her palm slapped against Regina's erect clit.

"Don't stop," her lover gasped.

"Never."

Her fingers drove deeper, curling against the roughness around Regina's entrance, almost pulling out, then thrusting in again. Again and again, her hips pushed into the softness of Regina's thighs. Again and again, her lover's walls welcomed her invasion.

She could feel sweat dripping down her back as she worked.

The other woman's breath came in hot bursts against her neck.

Rock hard nipples grated up against Emma's vulnerable chest.

It was too much. The feeling of it. The sensations. The way Regina was fucking her from underneath.

She could feel her orgasm coming, the unrelenting heat of the woman under her and the heat between her legs impossible to stave off.

"God."

All she could do was fuck her lover harder, faster, eyelids squeezed shut, begging for the brunette to come before she did.

"Yes." Regina's wet mouth brushed her ear.

"Yes. Emma, yes." Her words punctuated every thrust that came because she demanded them.

"I'm going to-"

Before the brunette finished speaking, Emma felt walls clamp around her, tighter than ever before. Spasms shuddered through Regina's body.

She bit deep into the blonde's neck, muffling the groan that birthed deep within her.

As the brunette drew blood, Emma lost control of the flames consuming her.

Her orgasm spiraled out from between her legs. She moaned into Regina's hair, fingers hilting as deep as she could thrust them.

They came together, the way they were supposed to.

And it was never going to end, Emma thought, eyelids shut tight against the pleasure, the brunette's body she only tether to the real world. She was never going to stop coming.

Then, beneath her, Regina's body gave one final shudder. The brunette's breath cascaded against the bite she left before she went limp.

"Emma," Regina said, summoning her slowly back. "I think you broke me."

She smiled. It was all she could do. That, and she dropped a weary kiss in the brunette's hair.

"Did you come?" Regina asked. Her hands smoothed along the planes of Emma's back and coasted over the roll of her ass.

"You couldn't tell?"

Her lover chuckled lowly. "I was a little distracted by what you were doing to me."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Gently, she pulled her fingers from Regina's lingering heat. They both shuddered as she did, and Emma had to calm the remaining coals of her desire as they threatened to spark.

She lay down beside her lover, pulling the sheet up over them both. "So it was...okay?"

"Okay?" Regina rolled over to face her. Her hand trailed lovingly over Emma's lips, bourbon eyes all softness. "It was wonderful."

A flare of happiness lit in the blonde's heart. She leaned forward and placed a kiss square on the other woman's mouth.

"Good."

"And about Henry's struggles in your class-"

As quickly as the flare had sprung up, it died. She waited in silence for Regina to finish.

"We will discuss it tomorrow at work when I am the principal again and you are his teacher."

"All right," Emma agreed.

"But tonight, before all of that, you will hold me close until morning."

"I will, Your Majesty," she whispered.

Arms open, she waited for Regina to roll into them. When they were settled and Regina's quiet in slumber, she nosed into the brunette's hair and breathed in the faint scent of perspiration and apples.

Her heart felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, but it was love, not the dread of the conversation to come, that made it so heavy. She knew-or she wanted to believe-that whatever they discussed, they could find a solution.

They had come too far not to.

With Henry down the hall and his mother hers in the king-sized bed, she allowed her eyes to close.

Welcome home, she thought, as she sank into a blissfully dreamless sleep.


	35. Chapter 34

**Hello, my beautiful readers...I can't believe I'm saying this, but I believe we're revving up for the climax here. I've been clinging to the remainder of the story, not wanting it to come to an end, but I believe it's time for us to find out if Emma and Regina will have their happily ever after.  
**

 **I hope you enjoy this update. Please review, fav, and follow. As of today, almost 90k people have viewed this story! The love you all have poured on this story is absolutely mind-boggling for me. THANK YOU, and I love you all. None of this would have been possible without your incredible support. 3  
**

 **XX**

Chapter 34:

It wasn't supposed to be like this. None of it.

Emma wasn't supposed to ever write music again or go a day without mourning Kathryn and what could have been. She was supposed to pay for the things she'd done and the ones she hadn't. She was supposed to always wonder when the other shoe would drop, when another door would slam, when the last piece of her heart would wither away in the unkempt garden that it was.

She had been born into this cycle. Wasn't she doomed to repeat it? All of the statistics and textbooks said so.

She certainly wasn't supposed to wake up in a mansion of a bed, smelling apples and clean linen, to a beautiful woman dropping kisses like rain on her collarbone.

So that was why, before she woke fully, she said, "No."

"No what?" Regina's husky morning voice rumbled against her throat.

Her heavy eyelids creaked open.

The brunette's face swam into focus in the darkness-first her liquor-colored eyes, then the nude color and plump shape of her lips, her small scar, and her roiling sea of dark hair.

Regina looked best in the morning, she decided, bare-faced and open-hearted.

"No, I don't want to get up yet," Emma covered.

"You don't have to. It's not even 6 o'clock yet."

"You woke me up an hour before we have to leave?" She went to pull the pillow over her head, but Regina's hand came down and stopped her.

She started to retort when her lover's pupils expanded, and the darkness and depth of her desire caught Emma in inky tendrils.

"Oh," she whispered as a current of electricity struck her body. Memories of the night before flooded her with heat.

"Yes, oh." The brunette shifted until she straddled the younger woman's belly.

Her hands played in Emma's long tresses, and the blonde stretched into the gentle touch, letting weariness retreat and passion replace it.

"Do you want to go back to sleep now?" Regina asked. Her mouth rested less than an inch from Emma's own. Playfulness warred with the want in her bourbon gaze.

In response, the blonde nipped at her lover's lips. She tugged Regina down, so their breasts and bellies touched. There, hardening nipples and warmth created friction between them.

Emma closed her eyelids and sighed into the kiss the brunette initiated, half-amazed and half-intimidated by how her body responded to the gravitational pull of the one atop her.

No, it wasn't supposed to be like this.

But, still, her hands roamed the fertile landscape of her lover's body, and Regina was soft, real, and hot.

Her eyes remained closed as Regina tangled their fingers together and brought them between her legs. The heat there teased Emma, making her gulp air.

 _Again? You want me inside you again so soon?_ her logical mind wondered.

The brunette impaled herself without warning, and she rode Emma mercilessly, breathy moans wreathing the room. The wetness leaking from her core trickled down their combined digits and onto the blonde's belly.

As Regina swallowed her whole again and again, she consumed Emma's doubts as well, or at the very least, she drove them away.

For now.

In this bed, in this moment, there could be no room for anything other than the two of them and their coming climaxes.

#

At her desk, Emma adjusted her dress pants for the uptenth time. She snuck a glance up at her 9th graders and found them engrossed in _Romeo and Juliet._

 _The silence is going to kill me,_ she thought.

Her mind returned to that morning-and to the night before-and to the firecracker of a woman who plucked orgasms like grapes from Emma's fingertips.

She could do nothing to stop the image of Regina orgasming on top of her just hours ago, her chest stained red like wine.

The image spawned on repeat.

Repeat.

Repeat.

And she couldn't even deviate from the lesson plan to do Shakespearean improv or sonnet interpretation, not with the impending conversation about Henry's grades...or the fact that her job security frayed further and further daily, thanks to Cora Mills.

But her slacks might melt right off if she didn't distract herself, and fast.

Time took mercy on her, and, at last, the bell signaled the end of the longest class period in the history of time.

Her once-quiet 9th graders stampeded the door like the Running of the Bulls, her call of "Slow it down, kids" pursuing them into the hallway.

She sighed in the empty classroom, allowing a moment to collect herself and the array of papers on her desk.

 _Time to face the music._

She rose like a prisoner summoned to the electric chair, left the room, and started the long trek into the dungeon of the basement.

Were she seeing Regina under _any_ other circumstance, her heart would have pounded from excitement, not utter dread.

"Hey, Tink," she said when she pushed open the glass door to the reception area.

"Emma, good afternoon," the petite blonde responded, all smiles. "Dr. Mills has a visitor, so if you'll just wait a moment, she'll be with you as soon as she can."

She gestured to the row of cold, plastic chairs opposite her desk. Emma perched on the edge of one like an obedient dog.

"I heard you got in a car accident," Tink said. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Her retort felt too short. She forced her busy fingers to stop drumming on her briefcase. "Um, thank you."

"No problem. If you're feeling up to it, we should plan another trip to the Oasis. Maybe this weekend?"

"This weekend," Emma mused. Her gaze darted to Regina's closed door and back to her lap. "I-"

"If you're worried about the Ice Queen being there, we could just keep it between the two of us, you know? I'd really like to get to know you better."

Tink sealed the deal with a wink.

"Um, well, er-" A blush crawl up her neck.

Just a few short months ago, she'd have been the one to initiate the date with the cute blonde.

Now, she hoped Regina couldn't hear their little exchange from her office.

Despite the fact that she and the brunette still had yet to make their status as a couple solid, or go public for that matter, she knew who held her heart.

Dreams of the Evil Queen from Henry's story spelled that fact out for her long before she put two and two together.

She started to decline when the door to Regina's office opened, and an older gentleman in a black Versace suit emerged, the cloying scent of peppermint and fine tobacco filling the room, along with his striking presence.

Something about him brought Emma to her feet, and she half-nodded, half-bowed in his direction. He nodded back, thick grey brows furrowing as he studied her.

 _What the hell are you doing, Swan?_

Her building flush consumed her entire face. Her feet poised to bolt out of the reception area and back up to the relative safety of her classroom.

Then, she sensed Regina's nearness, and despite the trial ahead of them, her lover soothed her erratic nerves like a lavender balm, even before she saw the principal's familiar face.

"Goodbye, Daddy," Regina said. She deposited a peck on the handsome man's cheek. "Thank you for visiting."

"We'll see you for Henry's party this weekend, princess," the man responded.

With a last glance at the other women in the room, Henry Sr. exited, leaving a flabbergasted Emma stumbling in his wake.

"Yes, that was my infamous father," Regina said, a hint of amusement in her voice as she took in the blonde's expression. "Do come in, Emma."

"Let me know about this weekend, okay?" Tink piped up before Emma entered the principal's office.

"Uh, sure," she said before she closed the door and sagged against it.

"What is this weekend?" Regina asked as she ensconced herself in her leather chair.

Though they'd spent the morning making love, the principal appeared a thousand times more imposing in the shadows behind her oversized desk.

Almost like a stranger.

"She wants to go to Oasis," Emma said, still glued to the door.

Regina's shoulders stiffened. "Just the two of you?"

 _We've entered dangerous waters,_ her brain screamed. _Alter course._

"Um, no, I think she's inviting the whole staff," she lied.

"Well, are you going? It's a shame she picked this weekend. After all, you know we've rescheduled Henry's party for Saturday at the country club."

"I remember. I was going to say no anyway. I'm not really feeling up to a weekend of dancing and drinking," Emma said. "I'd much rather go to Henry's party."

She observed the thinning line of the brunette's mouth.

"That is, if I'm still invited."

Second ticked past.

"Of course you are," Regina replied, tone stiff, "though I would understand if picking the party of a thirteen-year-old is less appealing than bumping and grinding on a hot little number like Tink at the club."

"Don't do this," Emma said, exasperated. "Don't push me away. You always get like this when your parents are around. You should know I'd rather be with you and Henry than anywhere else. You should know you're the only woman for me."

There. The truth came out of her mouth like an unexpected burp. It stayed in the room with them like a third body.

"Let's forget that stupid stuff about Tink and Oasis. What's going to happen?" Emma forged on when Regina remained silent. "If we call this thing what I think it is-a relationship-if we say we're together, what's going to happen when it comes to your family? Or are we going to hide forever?"

Regina sighed. Her body deflated in her chair like someone removed her spine. "I am going to be honest with you, Emma. I don't know. But I can say I think the time for hiding is running short."

"Good," Emma said. "I want everything out in the open, so we can deal with it."

But her bravado rang false.

When the world exploded, where would the pieces fall?

Would she collect Regina and Henry once and for all, or would she watch Cora Mills and Henry Sr. steal her budding family...and the last shreds of her heart?

 **XX**

 **Oh, and as for the Bella Books contest, I received an email that they got my submission. More details on how to vote hopefully coming soon...**


	36. Chapter 35

**Thanks for your patience and for sticking with this story, everyone! I don't have excuses for this delinquent chapter other than 1) a PhD is a TON of work and 2) wedding planning is no joke either.**

 **Happy New Year! Sending you all lots of love!**

 **XX**

Chapter 35:

The night before Henry's party, Emma drove her brand-new Kia Soul to Regina's manor. The alien green car possessed personality just like the yellow bug, but she missed her clunky old junk heap with its busted leather seats and single working radio station. Still, she had to admit, the Soul was a more family-friendly choice.

 _Family-friendly._ She wanted to scoff at the phrase, but the thought brought a beaming grin to her face.

As she turned off the ignition, her phone vibrated in the cup holder. She jumped at the unexpected noise before plucking up the infernal device.

Killian.

She answered.

"Hey, Ugly Duckling," crackled through the speakers of her car.

"Whoa, the magic of Bluetooth," she exclaimed. "I'm still not used to this thing."

"What thing?"

"New car. I finally managed to total the Bug. So I guess you win that bet."

Laughter filled the dark interior. "Well, I guess that explains why you never returned my call."

"Ah. Right." She chewed on the inside of her cheek, the memories of drinking in The Rabbit Hole with her old friend and being offered the job with his fishing co-op flooding back.

"I have to admit I still haven't made a decision." Her eyes flicked to the Mills' Manor as the front porch lights went on, welcoming her inside.

"I hate to be on your ass about it, Swan, but I'm gonna need an answer soon. The guys and I need someone to keep us in line. You wouldn't believe it out here—the drinking, the money, the women…We're gonna play gigs from the northern coast of Maine down to the Caribbean. It's about time you got back to your music, isn't it?"

Half-listening to what once would have been a dream opportunity, she watched the heavy oak door to the manor open and smiled when a tousled head of hair peeked outside.

"Swan, you listening to me?"

She snapped back to attention. "Sorry, Killian. I'm kind of in the middle of something. I promise I'll have an answer for you soon, okay?"

She hung up on her friend before he could reply and opened the door in time to catch Henry's bear hug.

"Oof, kid, you're getting bigger by the minute," she said as the bundle of little boy turning into teenager snuggled in close.

"Mom wanted to know what was taking you so long," he mumbled into her thick, fluffy coat.

"I just had a phone call to take care of," she told him.

"Then, can we go inside already? We have something for you."

She followed him out into the chilled evening. "Did you even notice that I have a new car, Henry?"

"Of course. Mom told me." he replied without even a glance back at the Soul. "That's why we got you a present."

"It's supposed to be _your_ birthday, so why do I get a present?" she asked, as they kicked off their shoes in the entryway.

She had her foot halfway out of her second sneaker when Regina sauntered out from the kitchen toward the front door.

Tonight, the brunette wore a tight-fitting black jumpsuit that cinched at her ankles and waist, showing off every one of her fabulous curves. The jumpsuit dipped low enough that a whisper of her ample cleavage brought a blush to the blonde's cheeks.

 _Only Regina would wear something like_ that _to lounge around the house in,_ she thought, still frozen in her tracks by the jaw-dropping beauty. _And, well, maybe Cora Mills._

She banished the thought of the frigid older woman as soon as she came to mind.

"Emma, must you always let in the cold?" Regina chided.

She drew close, her warm body nearly touching the blonde, as she reached past to shut and lock the front door with a definite click.

Emma gulped, as smoldering bourbon eyes met hers.

They'd made a promise to discuss Henry's grades this evening, while Emma was at the dealership—a conversation that could go either way. But perhaps the older woman had other, more sensual plans in mind as well.

Heat rushed to Emma's core, and she tripped over the shoe she'd taken off and sent the one still half-on flying across the room.

She nearly face-planted when Regina caught her.

"Trying to give yourself concussion number two on my watch?" the brunette asked, her slight but strong arms deliciously tight around Emma's body.

She met Regina's eyes once more, and there was something new in them—something fiercely protective, a fire similar to the way that the other woman looked at her son. Suddenly, Emma felt young and small, but unlike her childhood, she felt…safe. She felt home, truly home, in a way she'd only glimpsed or dreamt about before.

"T-thank you for catching me," she stuttered.

A smile curved on the plump, nude lips that Emma had kissed so many times, that she wanted to kiss so many more. "I promise you that I will do my best to always catch you."

Like magnets, they drew nearer.

"Uh." Henry's voice interrupted them. "Can we give Emma her present now, or are you guys going to keep being gross?"

"Oh right. The gift." And just like that, Regina Mills was back to business, releasing Emma and standing once more.

It took the blonde a few seconds longer to struggle back into reality, but she tailed behind the two into the kitchen. There, a gift bag as green as her new car awaited her.

"Go ahead," Henry said, gesturing. "Open it."

She plucked the bag off the island and gave it a shake. "Hope it's not something fragile."

"Emma, it's not," Regina said with a laugh. "I think we know by now that you're a bit of a bull in a china shop."

"Hey," she exclaimed, as she ripped out tissue paper and simultaneously proved her lover's point.

She stuck her hand into the bag and felt around. Something metal. And four wheels? As, the rest of the tissue paper settled by her feet, she peeked inside.

Nestled toward the bottom of the bag was a miniature Volkswagen Beetle. It was the same powder yellow as her own had been. And behind the steering wheel sat a blonde clay figure, wearing a flannel that looked suspiciously familiar.

"It's…" Emma could feel tears welling up in her eyes. "It's perfect."

She glanced up through blurry vision to take in two beaming faces. "Thank you both. So much."

"Do you really like it, dear?" Regina asked.

"Did you see that you're inside of it? We had that done special," Henry boasted.

"It's—it's the best present I've ever received."

They were on her weak-kneed person in an instant, swallowing her in their hug and crushing the gift close to Emma's chest.

She closed her eyes, letting the tears spill and the warmth envelope her. She wished the moment could last forever.

But of course they released her.

"Would you like to take Henry out and hang your present from the rearview mirror?" Regina asked, wiping one of blonde's tears with her thumb. "I'll heat up dinner while you do."

"Come on, kid," Emma said around the lump in her throat.

Arm-in-arm, they headed back into the cold where the perfectly preserved double of her old and faithful car claimed its rightful spot.

This time, Henry exclaimed over the new car, crawled across the back seats, and twisted every single nob on the dash. Just when Emma was convinced she'd never be able to find her favorite radio station again, Regina called them back inside.

They ate a pizza—if a cauliflower crust and cashew cheese counted as pizza—at the island, Henry guzzling his milk, while Regina and Emma shared a bottle of red wine.

"After this, it's homework time, no excuses, even though Emma is here," Regina told him, as she shoveled the last bite of his fifth slice into his mouth.

"But it's Friday," he whined.

The older woman opened her mouth, but it was the blonde who responded.

"All the better to get a bunch of stuff done now, kid, so you can enjoy the rest of the weekend, especially your _party_."

She could see the wheels turning in his head, looking for a flaw in her logic.

But in the end, he shrugged. "Guess so."

"Dishes in the sink," Regina reminded him.

He complied and scampered off, and the brunette turned to her with raised brows.

"What? Did I do something wrong?"

"Wrong? That was amazing. Friday nights are always the hardest with him, especially if he's spent the night before with my parents."

Emma could sense it coming—the discussion she'd been dreading, since Cora accused her of failing her favorite student.

"Glad I could help."

"You do." From across the marble island, the brunette reached for her hand. "You really do. And about his grade in your class…"

Emma tensed, squeezing her lover's hand without meaning to.

"We're in a difficult spot, aren't we? What, with you being his teacher and me being your principal and your—your girlfriend."

Emma's heart leapt at the term of endearment, said so sweetly and hesitantly from the other woman's lips.

"And when you throw my mother and father into the mix, well, we find ourselves in quite the predicament, don't we?

"Seems we do."

Regina's brows knitted together. "I've been over and over everything in my mind, trying to find a way to please everyone, but it simply isn't possible. So do you want to know what I keep coming up with every time I've thought about this conversation?"

Did she?

Not if it meant being fired and sent away.

When she realized she was squeezing even tighter, she willed herself to breathe deep.

 _Whatever's coming, you have to accept it._

"Tell me," she said.

"I want you in Henry's life. You're a good teacher—no, a great teacher—my mother's opinions aside. Truly, I get calls from the parents of other students, asking where I found you and if I can't bring on more teachers like you."

"Y-you do?"

"Yes. Not to mention, you've inspired the students who run the literary magazine and brought out a spark in my son that I've never seen in all the years he's played tennis. You showed me how alike he and I really are—and how much like my parents I was becoming."

"You only want the best for him," Emma mumbled around her rising flush.

"And more than anything else, I want you in _my_ life. It's selfish, I know, to want you when I am your principal and when the School Board is set against you."

"It's not—"

The brunette placed a finger over her lips, silencing her.

"It _is_ selfish, and that is the part of this puzzle that I don't know quite how to solve. Perhaps I quit my job and pursue my writing as I always dreamed. I am compensated well and have been lucky enough to save enough money for Henry and I to live—not as well as we do now, but to have our basic needs met and some comforts…"

"You can't do that," Emma interrupted. "That's crazy talk. Regina, I'm just a temporary teacher until Mary Margaret comes back. You're the only one standing between the School Board and your students.

"And I know that you love writing, but you love being principal as well. I mean, I can't imagine what you'd do if you didn't have people to boss around. If you want me to stay in Storybrooke, I will. I'll get another teaching job at another school nearby after my term ends."

The other woman shook her head. "That won't be possible. My mother will do all in her power to ruin any possibility of a teaching career that you could ever have. Perhaps, you would consider letting me take care of you? You could work on your music that way, and—"

"No," Emma said. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't accept that. My pride is on the line, and it's about all I have. If you want me to stay in Storybrooke, then we provide equally in this…relationship."

"Then, it comes down to my mother, and by extension, my father," Regina said, and at once, she looked drawn and pale.

"Maybe we could move?" Emma suggested. "Start over somewhere new?"

This time, it was Regina's turn to squeeze Emma's hand. "No. I cannot continue to run. Then, it would be _my_ pride on the line. I've known deep down that I would have to face them eventually about us, about my sexuality."

"You don't have to do it alone."

"Oh, but I do," Regina murmured, her eyes sad and tender as they drank in the blonde beside her. "This is my war that I dragged you into, and I must be the one to lead us out victorious."

"How?"

"Tomorrow, I will set my parents straight," Regina said. "After the party."

"So…soon."

The brunette leaned forward and placed a brief kiss on Emma's lips. "Maybe for you, but for me, this has been a long time coming. Thank you for being the one to give me the courage to finally do the right thing."


	37. Chapter 36

**At this point, chapters will be forthcoming daily! Only a few left until we wrap up this story...Please leave a review/follow/favorite if you're still enjoying!**

 **XX**

Chapter 36:

The next morning, Emma woke before Regina's alarm. She lay in the oceanic expanse of the California king, watching the sun bleed over her lover's body.

She wished she could be the light, making the other woman glow like some otherworldly being, infusing her with strength for the day to come.

If wrangling 20 sugar-crazed thirteen-year-olds wouldn't be tough enough, throwing Cora and Henry Sr. on top would give anyone, with even the most steely of constitutions, a peptic ulcer.

Could Regina really do it?

The brunette was a superhero in many ways. She could make a grown man lay down and beg for his life, of that Emma had no doubts. But when it came to the older woman's parents and the ghost of the brother the hung over the three of them, the Regina Emma knew and loved had a tendency to disappear.

She thought of the words her lover spoke the night before, about trust and love, a relationship, a future together, a reason to call Killian and say thanks, but no thanks, about blind faith and following the heart.

She moved closer to the warm body in the middle of the cold bed. She breathed deep the familiar apple scent and wound her limbs around the ones that fit so perfectly in her arms.

Regina believed in her.

She needed to believe in Regina, in a way that she'd thought foster care and failed relationships had ruined for her. She needed to give herself over.

She closed her eyes, willing herself to melt into the other woman, offering up her strength and her heart.

In her nightmares of the Evil Queen, it had always been so painful to give away her heart.

But now, in the silence and subtle daylight, it was strangely easy.

Sure, it still hurt, to be so vulnerable, but it was a good hurt—like reopening a scab and squeezing out the infection.

"I spent so much time thinking it was you who couldn't do it," she murmured into Regina's inky locks. "But it was me, too. I want you to know I'm ready now. I want to stay in Storybrooke, and I want a life here with Henry…and with you."

She held onto Regina like the woman was a life raft, eyes squeezed tight against the tide of her thoughts.

Then, a voice husky with morning saved her from drowning. "Excellent," Regina grumbled. "Now be a dear and make my tea."

She grinned. "It would be my pleasure, Your Majesty."

#

As Emma gawked around the country club's natatorium, she acknowledged that her second cup of coffee with a shot of espresso might not have been her most genius idea.

The sounds of nearly two-dozen screaming boys and girls all hell bent on their team winning the game of water volleyball reverberated in the chlorine-choked space.

Parents lined the glass walls of the enclosure, standing by the overflowing gift table or sipping punch that always seemed to be followed by a silver flask of something.

Regina worked the room in a tasteful navy blue one-piece and sheer wrap that far too many of the male parents—and some of the females—drooled over for Emma's liking.

In her own old and faded two-piece, she second-guessed her choice in attire for the umpteenth time.

Should have bought something new. Something less revealing.

She wondered if she should go and chat about the weather or something equally as cliché with Adam Gold's parents whom she recognized from a parent-teacher conference. She scuttled in that direction, then halted when Cora and Henry Sr. started on that same path.

So far, she'd managed to keep the pool between herself and their overpowering presence, and she planned to spend the entire shindig that way.

Her eyes trailed pleadingly over to Regina once more. Were she and the brunette here together together? They'd driven separately, despite leaving from the same driveway, so she doubted it.

None of Henry's other teachers—or any of the staff from Storybrooke—were there other than her, so she stuck out like the sorest of thumbs. Not to mention, the gift she'd poured her heart into for Henry had been gobbled up and spit out by professionally wrapped presents three and four times its size.

She felt the differences between her life and the Mills' most acutely in gatherings like these. She'd never even had a birthday party, certainly not one at a country club where people wore gold while they went swimming.

Her feet carried her backward, toward the changing room before she even realized she'd started moving.

I'll just regroup for a second, come back stronger, she told herself.

Her body seemed to have other ideas though, and she dropped like a hundred pound sack of rice on one of the wooden benches next to the lockers.

The only thing that kept her butt planted there instead of getting into her car and driving back to the sanctuary of her apartment was the promise that Regina would speak to her parents at the end of the party—that and the possibility of disappointing Henry who'd moved his party just for her.

From behind, she heard someone enter the dressing room, and she busied herself with pretending to adjust her filmy cover-up.

"Emma?"

At Regina's familiar, deep voice, she relaxed and turned around.

The brunette took one look at her face, and Emma knew how much she sucked at hiding her emotions.

"Oh, you're miserable," Regina said.

With a soft chuckle, the other woman strolled forward and pulled the blonde flush against her body.

"Well, I'm a little better now," Emma replied.

"You know I've got to mingle with the guests, or else I would spend all my time with you."

"Sure, sure, I know." But hearing it felt good.

"I thought you'd be in the pool with the kids, since you're just a big kid yourself. I never would have guessed you'd been so awkward at a child's birthday party."

"It's probably because I never really went to parties when I was young," Emma admitted. "I definitely never had a party being in the foster system."

"Never?"

"Nope."

Regina held her at arm's length, studying the blonde's face, as if to find some sort of lie.

"Well, I'll tell you a secret," the other woman said.

"Tell away."

"I've never had one either."

"What? You?"

"No. While Zeleno was alive, birthdays were a private family affair. I did ask for one at some point after his death, and my mother reacted in such a way that I never asked again."

At once, the hamster jumped on the wheel in Emma's mind, dreaming up future birthday scenarios for her lover.

"We'll have to make up for lost time then," she said.

"For you as well."

Overcome, she pulled Regina close, kissing her like they were in Paris, instead of in the middle of a women's locker room.

When they parted, Emma couldn't feel her legs, but certain other parts of her demanded Regina's thorough and immediate attention.

"Will they notice if you're gone?" she asked, raising her brows at one of the shower stalls.

"Not if we're quick and quiet," Regina replied. She winked, her eyes two dark stones of desire. "And I may bite when I come, since I can't be as loud as I would wish."

The promise in those words sent the growing wetness between Emma's legs sliding down her thighs.

They were walking toward the shower stall, Emma reaching out for one of Regina's hands when none other than Cora Mills entered the changing room.


	38. Chapter 37

**We're drawing very close to the end now! Please leave a review/fav/follow if you're enjoying!**

 **XX**

Chapter 37:

Emma froze, her fingers still outstretched toward the brunette next to her, while Cora Mills stalked toward them.

"Regina," the older woman snapped, "the children tire of the pool. Why have you not yet started with Henry's presents?"

Her narrow gaze traveled the short space between her daughter and the blonde cowering next to her.

"What exactly," she asked, her tone like the lick of a whip, "are the two of you doing in here?"

"M-my swimsuit ripped," Emma lied. "Regina came to help me fix it."

The full force of the woman who wore rows of sea foam green pearls descended upon her, and the blonde's voice shriveled up in her throat.

"Wearing such flimsy and inappropriate attire to a child's birthday party was no doubt not one of your brightest decisions. Though…" Cora paused and wrinkled her nose. "I can hardly seem to remember a time when you have made a bright decision when it comes to my grandson or my daughter, or even your job, for that matter."

Emma flinched under the verbal assault.

"Mother, please," Regina said. "Let's not do this here, not at Henry's party. I will join you, and we can start unwrapping the gifts."

The brunette shot an apologetic look over her shoulder before ushering the older woman toward the pool.

"Oh, I should mention, there is to be a surprise," Cora said, jerking out of her daughter's hold. Her ominous tone sent shivers down Emma's spine. "And I just cannot wait to see the expression on both your faces."

With that, Regina's mother yanked her elbow out of her daughter's grasp and showed herself out of the changing room. She left the two women exchanging bewildered glances.

"I wonder what that's all about," Emma said.

"Certainly nothing good," her lover replied. "I must go. Join us when you're ready, my dear."

It took several deep breaths before an already anxious Emma could follow the Mills women out of the locker room.

In the natatorium, with the children wrapped in towels, everyone formed a half-moon around Henry and his mountain of presents.

"What should I open next?" he asked the crowd.

A dozen shouts flooded the room, as Emma wormed her way through a group of parents.

"How about…" Henry waved his fingers like magic wands over the pile. "This one!"

His hand landed on the most unlikely of presents. Hers.

Next to the bright colored wrapping paper, glitter, and bows encasing the rest of the gifts, she'd gone with burlap and twine. At the time, it had seemed perfect for a boy his age, but as Cora Mills had put it, maybe she wasn't so bright when it came to these things.

A blush raced up her neck and across her cheeks.

"Who's it from, dear?" Regina asked him.

She wanted to duck. She wanted to run.

"It's from Emma, uh, I mean Miss Swan," he said, correcting himself when his mother gave him the side eye.

She saw him searching through the crowd for her face.

"Over here, kid," she said, giving a feeble wave of her hand.

He beamed, and she instantly felt better, if only for a moment.

"My goodness, what could possibly be in that? Leftover candy from the two-dollar movie theater?"

Cora Mills' snide remark echoed through the expansive room. While it earned a glare from her daughter and grandson, several titters from the crowd joined her hollow laugh.

"Now, darling, she's on a teacher's salary. We can't very well expect much form her," Henry Sr. replied with a pat on his wife's hand.

Whether his remark came to her defense or was a continuation of the mockery, Emma guessed her ears must be in flames, she felt so hot with humiliation and impotent rage.

"Well, don't just stand there, Henry, open it," Regina urged, placing protective palms on her son's shoulders.

With a nod, he ripped open the packaging, and the highlight of Emma's terrible day was seeing his jaw drop and then a radiant smile replace his surprise.

"It—it's a journal," he said.

He held up the distressed leather binding and fanned the creamy pages inside.

"It has a spot for a pen," he went on, reverently touching the leather loop that held a fountain pen engraved with his name on it.

"And." He flipped it over. "There's something written on the back."

"We can save the back for later," Emma said, her bravery back now that she'd seen his reaction. "And later, I'll show you how to add new pages when you fill all of those up."

"With my story?" he asked.

"With all your stories," she confirmed.

"Thank you, Emma. It's the best present ever."

He headed for her at full-speed, arms out for a chorine soaked hug. She caught him in her arms and held him close.

Over the top of his head, she savored the shock on Cora and Henry Sr.'s faces, especially the dramatic touch of Regina's mother clutching her heart.

Her eyes shifted to the brunette, and the gaze she received in return was so full of love that the rest of the party no longer mattered. She knew she would endure a hundred encounters with Cora if it meant the sweet ones with her lover and Henry.

"Okay, okay," she said, untangling him when the hug veered toward mom-sized in length. "I'm glad you like it."

"You made it, didn't you?" he asked.

"I did. It took me ages. But you deserved something really special for your thirteenth birthday," she replied. "Now, go on back up there and open the rest of those gifts before your friends decide to."

He all but bounced on his way back to the front of the table where he wiggled his magic fingers over the gifts once more.

Then, all of a sudden, he stopped, eyes drifting off toward the door to the natatorium.

"Mom," he asked. "Who's that?"

The crowd turned to follow his gaze.

By the entrance to the pool stood a darkly handsome man with a rakish smile and blue eyes that cut like diamonds. He wore Polo from head to toe, his pants creased sharp to draw blood, and his shirt starched to accent the crushing muscles in his chest.

In one hand, he held a lavish bouquet of orchids, and in the other, he dwarfed a small wrapped box that Emma guessed must be for Henry.

She hated to admit the way her body reacted to the sight of him, as a card-carrying lesbian. But he brought out that .01% of her that could more than just appreciate such a stunning male specimen.

She glanced at Regina for a clue as to who he might be, and she found the brunette's face drained of blood, her hands two clenched fists by her sides.

"Ah," Cora Mills exclaimed, "it seems my surprise has finally arrived. Robin, please join us. Everyone, this is Robin, from the Hood family. He's in dairy. Regina, why don't you go and greet our guest? After all, he's been dying to see you again."


	39. Chapter 38

**Hint, hint, only two chapters left after this one! Please leave a review/fav/follow if you're enjoying!**

 **XX**

Chapter 38:

Emma watched as Regina took halting steps toward the dark-haired man who had crashed Henry's birthday party.

"For you," Robin said when the brunette reached him, extending the bouquet cradled in one arm.

"I'm allergic," she responded with a sniff, though Emma spotted the fib.

Orchids were some of the other woman's favorite flowers. Many different, brightly colored species decorated rooms of the Mills' manor.

Why would she lie?

"I'll be sure to do better next time," he responded, the picture of the perfect gentleman.

"Henry," Cora called, "come stand by me, my sweet. I believe Mr. Hood has a present for you and your mother both."

"That I do."

The nightmare unfolded in front of Emma's eyes.

The man in dairy dipped to one knee, extending the wrapped box in Regina's direction. The brunette paled further, hands clapping over her mouth.

"W-what's happening?" Henry asked, tone the size of a single pea.

His question mirrored Emma's horror.

"Shush," Cora responded. She leaned forward, neck jutting out like an ostrich, as always encased in her infernal pearls.

Emma imagined strangling her in them.

"What is this?" Regina asked.

She accepted the gift from Robin's hand. In slow motion, it seemed, she used her nails to shred the wrapping paper. The scraps fell like dead leaves around her sandaled feet.

"Will you, Regina Mills," Robin asked as he popped the lid on the black velvet box, "do me the honor of marrying me?"

A yellow diamond the size of a quail egg peeked out of scarlet satin. Water and light created prisms in the natatorium, blinding Emma. Through half-open, blurring eyes, she watched her lover reach forward like a robot and pluck out the ring.

"Well?" Robin asked.

He stood once more, his shadow dominating the smaller brunette.

"Shall we see if it fits?"

One of his over-sized hands cupped Regina's and slid on the ring.

"A perfect fit," he exclaimed, holding her arm up high like a conquest.

Cheers reverberated around the room.

"God, I thought she'd be a spinster forever," Adam Gold's mother said to her husband. "Thank goodness for that man saving the day."

No, Emma thought. Regina'll say something, right? She'll tell him no; she'll tell all of them.

As Emma's mind roared on the last fumes of hope, she watched the Regina she knew collapse into herself—the silent shell she always became in the presence of her parents returning like clockwork.

She realized the truth, staring at Regina and Robin—a perfect match, a power couple. There was no room for her in this picture. There never had been.

It was too much. She had to get out of there before the tears fell.

She slunk from the crowd as they surrounded her lover and Mr. Hood. In the locker room, she fished for her keys. Then, she bolted out of country club to her car.

I don't belong here, she told herself as she drove out of a parking lot full of Bentleys, Cadillacs and Porsches.

She floored it as the sky opened up. New England flurries swallowed her car in their white embrace.

I belong with Killian on that boat, drifting up and down the coast.

Drifter. Visitor. Vagabond. She'd worn those names like medals of honor all her life.

Her time in Storybrooke had been temporary, a dream. Nothing more. Nothing had changed.

Why she'd fooled herself into believing something could be different she didn't know.

But the pain of her stupidity trickled out of her heart and ran down her cheeks.

Every time she blinked, she saw the Evil Queen laughing behind her eyes, and the bleeding muscle torn out of her chest still pumping frantically and fruitlessly in Regina's clutches.

And Henry, poor, dear Henry—he looked on while his mother killed her.

#

Emma tossed leaf after leaf of clothing into her duffel bag, while her phone rang.

"Duckling?" Killian's voice crackled over the speaker.

"Have you left port yet?" she asked.

Her voice came out calm, steady, surprising her.

"Shipping off in t-minus two days," he responded. "You finally make up your mind?"

"Don't leave till I get there."

"10-4."

Silence passed between them.

"Hey, Duck, mind me asking why the sudden decision in my favor? Not that I'm complaining."

She imagined him huddled away in the hull somewhere, nose red from vodka, haphazard sheets in need of washing covering his bunk.

"Guess I'm good at finding the places where I don't belong," she said. "Maybe since we won't be staying anywhere for too long, this time'll be different."

She listened to his chuckle, and it was strange how something so familiar could bring back so many memories—both good and bad.

Maybe she never actually would escape all of her ghosts or live the life she'd conjured in her wildest fantasies, but at least she wouldn't be alone.

Killian knew all of her, and he accepted her anyway.

More than she could say for the Mills family.

"Gotta finish packing," she told him. "Send me the address, and I'll be there before you can say The Rabbit Hole."

"Over and out."

Her phone went dead in her hand.

She stared at it for a long moment, willing Regina's number to light up the screen. But nothing happened, and she resumed her frenzied packing.

She'd knocked her toiletries off her sink into a gallon-sized plastic bag when her doorbell rang.

She jumped half a foot in the air, then stared past the bathroom door into the dim hall like she expected an enemy.

The doorbell rang again, followed by the sound of multiple hands banging on the door.

"What the hell?" she muttered. "I paid my rent, didn't I?"

But she admitted maybe the thought slipped her mind as she sidestepped to peek through the peephole.

Two heads of brownish hair stood at her front door—one tousled, one immaculate. As fast as her heart leapt, it plummeted.

What are they doing here?

She hesitated before answering, but the pounding intensified.

"Okay, okay," she shouted. "You're going to break the frame."

She cracked the door an inch and peered out.

"Emma," Regina's bourbon eyes were wild and bloodshot.

Beside her, Henry tried to bully his way inside.

"Why did you leave?" he cried. "We needed you."

"I-I'm sorry, Kid," she said, catching his small fists before they could crash into her. "It didn't look that way to me."

"Why aren't you with Robin and your parents?" she asked Regina, tone far less forgiving.

"Jesus Christ, Emma dear," the other woman responded in exasperation. "You didn't honestly think I'd accept Mr. Hood's proposal, did you?"

"I—" She grasped for Regina's left hand.

The yellow diamond adorning the brunette's ring finger only an hour ago was nowhere to be seen.

"W-why didn't you say yes?"

"Shouldn't the question be why would I? Emma, in case you've forgotten, I made you a promise last night, one as important as a proposal, even though I haven't had the time to pick out a ring for you—what with all the excitement you bring to our little life."

"Well, I…" She had no idea how to respond.

"Henry," Regina said, "your pack of Doublemint, please."

He pulled the half-empty pack of gum out of his coat pocket and handed it over. His mother unwrapped two pieces and shoved them both in her mouth.

"Mom, you never chew gum," Henry said gleefully.

She gave the green wrapping back to her son without responding, sat on Emma's couch, and began folding both silver wrappers into an origami shape.

Still voiceless, the blonde watched the other woman work.

"Come here," the brunette commanded at last.

Her feet moved without a second thought.

When she gazed down at the woman she loved, she realized what Regina had fashioned.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"You know very well my intentions," the other woman replied.

"Emma," she said, sinking to one knee. "Please stop packing, and do both me and my son the great favor of staying in Storybrooke. I believe I ask on behalf of the both of us—will you marry me and make our little family three?"

In offering, she raised the ring made out of the silver gum wrapper.

How many times am I going to cry over this woman? Emma wondered.

This time, as her eyes welled up, made four or five for today alone.

"You're turning me into a leaky faucet," she said extending her left hand.

"I will take that as a yes," Regina said, and the first genuine smile that Emma had seen since they left the Mills' Manor that morning graced her face at last.

"Yes," Emma agreed.

Her lover slid the flimsy, two-cent wrapper down the blonde's ring finger where it nested under her knuckle as though she'd always worn it.

She stared at it, in awe and disbelief. "I want to insure this for a million dollars."

"You might be overestimating its value," the other woman responded with a soft laugh.

"No." She held her hand to her chest. "This means the world to me."

Regina proffered the ring from the other wrapper. "Will you do the honor?"

Needing no further prompting, Emma dropped to her knees. She glanced at Henry who nodded his blessing. She accepted the gum wrapper from Regina and urged her lover back onto the couch.

"Don't marry Robin," she said. "Marry me. I may not be as rich as he is—or as good looking, for that matter—but I promise that I can give you something that he doesn't have, and that's my heart. It's already yours, if you want it, so I hope that you'll accept it."

"I do want your heart," Regina replied. She offered her delicate hand to the blonde who slipped on the wrapper. "And everything else."

They made eye contact, then Regina lunged forward and enveloped Emma in her arms. The scent of apples came with her.

The blonde breathed deep and pressed her lips to her lover's neck.

"And, Emma," the brunette whispered, "I find you far more attractive than Robin ever could be. After all, you're a woman, and you're mine."

They held each other for several seconds longer before Henry toppled on top of them. The three of them landed in a heap of giggles on the carpet.

"We're a family for real now," Henry said. "That's the best birthday present ever."

Looking back, Emma mused, perhaps that was the happiest moment for all of them.

But then, Regina's phone rang, and their world took a turn for the worse once more.

"Darling," Henry Sr. said on speaker. "I have bad news. It's your mother…her heart. She's in the hospital. Best that you come quickly."


	40. Chapter 39

**One last chapter from Regina's PoV...I hope you enjoy, especially the last line. Please leave a review/fav/follow as we wrap this puppy up! :]**

 **XX**

Chapter 39:

Regina's 560SL Benz screeched to a halt in front of Storybrooke Hospital's emergency entrance. The brunette tumbled out, yanking her Gucci faux fur tighter around her slim figure. No matter how fast her feet carried her into the sterile smelling lobby, she felt as though she moved in slow motion.

Mother.

She slammed her hands down on the receptionist's desk. "Cora Mills. What room is she in?"

"Let me check for you," the woman responded.

Her fingers clacked on a few keys as though moving through mud.

"Hurry, please," Regina said, voice tinny and strained in her ears.

So strange, she thought, that I would feel so much when I once worried I might feel nothing standing over my mother's coffin.

But the grief and panic that came in waves from the pit of her stomach were carried forth on the tides of deeper memories. The last time she'd been to the local hospital had been…

"Room 16C," the receptionist said, snipping her train of thought. "Are you the daughter?"

"Yes."

"I'll buzz you in."

The double doors to the belly of ICU opened automatically as Regina strode toward them. They latched behind her, locking her in the skeleton of the snake-like building.

The last time I was here…It was to see my brother.

Zeleno had already been cold in his gurney by the time her family arrived all those years ago. Always pale, his skin had taken a grey hue, and his closed eyes had sunken deep within his skull.

She stared down at her hand, imagining that her brother's head would have fit easily within it, the way Henry's had until recently. She'd counted down the hours, the days, the months to the time he outgrew the age of Zeleno's passing without even realizing it.

Now she'd come here on family business once again.

The curtain cording off room 16C from the hallway masked the two figures within it.

As Regina stepped through, Henry Sr. stood from the plastic chair pulled up to the edge of the bed. He released his wife's hand, and it fell limp onto the white sheet.

She couldn't bring herself to look at her mother.

"Am I too late?"

In place of responding, her father let the slow but steady sound of the heart monitor answer.

Only after three beeps did Regina stare Cora Mills in the face.

The hospital bed dwarfed the once-imposing woman within it. Without her pearls, Cora's neck appeared small and bird-like. The age in her cheeks showed, despite the facelift and Botox. Eyes closed and hands unclenched, she appeared like any other old lady.

"Has she always been so…small?" Regina asked.

"I suppose so," her father replied, "though I don't believe any of us noticed it."

They maintained a silence for a long moment before Regina could bring herself to speak again.

"Will she…wake?"

"The doctors are optimistic. The ambulance arrived to our home in time to stave off the worst of things."

"Everything will return to how it was?"

Her father's gaze travelled to meet hers. He glanced down, and Regina remembered the silly gum wrapper ring she wore. She tried to hide her hand, but he caught it.

"So this is what you choose?" he asked. "The substitute school teacher?"

"Her name is Emma." She stole a look at his weathered cheek. "How did you know?"

"How could I not? I am your father, after all."

She nodded her acquiescence.

"It's been going on for some time now, your relationship with her, has it not?"

Again, she bobbed her head.

"I tried to reason with your mother. I want you to know that. But ever since your brother passed, she's been determined to oversee your every move, keep you close, but it's only always been to keep you safe. Neither of us could bear to lose you, too."

"She wishes I'd died in place of Zeleno."

"No. She wishes she'd never spoken those words. They came from a place of grief and worry about our family lineage. They didn't come from her heart."

"Why, after all these years of misery, hasn't she bothered to speak such things to me?"

Henry Sr. gazed with great love on his prone wife. "Words were never her strong suit, unless they were meant to cut. I believe some of that rubbed off on you."

"I have made a conscious effort to change."

"Since that substitute teacher came to Storybrooke Prep," her father agreed. "I have noticed."

She straightened her spine. "Well then, now that you know, what else do you have to say about us? Let's air out all our dirty laundry while we're here, shall we?"

"I lost your brother," Henry Sr. said, his voice raw. "My parents are long in the grave. Today, I nearly lost my wife. Regina, there aren't many Mills left. I couldn't bear it if I lost you and Henry Jr., too. If a life with Emma makes you happy and keeps you close, then you have my blessing. But then, I don't believe I'm the one from whom you've been hiding."

In tandem, they stepped closer to Cora's sick bed.

"You're right," Regina admitted. "All of this would have been much simpler were it just you."

"But it's not. And by the grace of God, it won't be."

The throb of the heart monitor joined in their conversation. The pumping of the muscle in Regina's chest echoed it.

She couldn't deny the familiarity she saw in Cora's face. She couldn't deny the demons within her that her own mother battled.

She wanted her mother to live, not because it would be easier, but because even after everything, she loved her. The frightened little girl buried within her would die for a scrap of her mother's approval.

Tears obscured her vision. She leaned over the small figure in the bed, and she wept.

The sobs came out of her like a bursting dam, like something trapped in a vault. And for long moments, she clung to her mother's arms to be saved.

"Now, now, then," a voice whispered in her hair, "what's all this fuss?"

She pulled back in shock, in embarrassment at having been caught.

Cora's topaz irises met her bourbon ones.

"Mother," she choked out in disbelief.

"Yes, it's me. Although, I suppose you thought your little stunt at Henry's birthday party might sent me over the edge?"

"I-into the hospital? I never—"

Cora waved a feeble hand, cutting her off. "You never could tell when I jest, could you?"

She couldn't even begin to dream up the words to respond.

"I'm going to be just fine. Now go. I'm sure you'd much rather be with your son and that blonde woman than in here with me."

"Mother, I'm happy to stay as long as—"

"Go," Cora said, more insistently this time. "You made your decision, to be gay and to be with that penniless substitute. Leave me to my rest, or in my disbelief at your decision-making skills, I might suffer a heart attack again."

The words were barbs, but they came out without the poison they once did.

Regina nodded to her father, then turned to go. As she parted the curtain, she glanced back.

Henry Sr. smiled at her, and then, slowly, so did Cora.

Years of pain. Years of yearning. Years of regret. They meant nothing as Regina excused herself.

All she could see was that smile—that genuine smile—on her mother's face.

She longed for it, dreamed for it, and now that she had it, she could fully face the future. And she could embrace the woman she wanted in it the most with all of her home.

She and Henry could finally make a home for Miss Swan.


	41. Chapter 40: Epilogue

**Crying a little as I post this little wrap-up to this 85k fanfic...Thank you to all of my amazing readers who went on this literary journey with me! You all kept me going!**

 **I wasn't sure that we'd have a happy ending for our couple, but they wouldn't allow me to write anything else!**

 **Emma and Regina truly are meant to be together! If you liked this story, please consider leaving some final thoughts in a review or a favorite, so that other readers are more likely to discover this now that it's complete. It would mean the world to me. ^_^**

 **Thanks again, and check out my other Swen fic if you need a fix after this one.**

 **XX**

Chapter 40: Epilogue

My name is Henry, and I like to write stories. On my 13th birthday, my second mom gave me a journal to write in. I decided that I wanted to write the story of my family.

There's my birth mom, and there's Emma. She was my substitute teacher. Then, she married my mom and became my second mom. We all live in a house in Storybrooke that the other kids say is gigantic.

Oh, and I have a baby sister on the way. I'm not sure how to feel about that yet, but I like it when I touch Emma's belly and feel her kick.

I also have a grandpa and a grandma who live in town. My grandpa finally let me quit playing tennis! (I hated it so much.) And my grandma has gotten a lot nicer ever since she quit her job as head of the School Board. She knits now and plays with the dog they got.

My mom took over Grandma's job, and Emma got a full time job where I go to school. And that teacher she was subbing for? Well, Miss Blanchard is our new principal. I have to say that she's nicer to the kids who get in trouble than my mom was.

My life is pretty great. I thought it was good before the fall semester that Emma came to town, but now it's even better.

I figured out I like to write stories with happy endings.

And that's how this one goes.

Thanks for reading!

 **XX**

 **I know this is the epilogue, and I hope you enjoyed it, BUT if you'd like me to write the chapter where Regina gets Emma pregnant, let me know. Lol. I'm always up for an encore when it comes to these two.**


	42. Chapter 41: Epilogue: Part II

**WARNINGS: Explicit F/F smut and pregnancy ahead. If these topics offend or trigger you, I would not recommend reading.**

 **And, okay, this REALLY is the end of this fic. T_T Thank you ALL for taking the time to read my take on Regina and Emma's happily ever after.**

 **A special thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who commented, favorited, and followed this story! It has meant the world to me! It kept me writing and thinking about these characters, even when real life got in the way.**

 **Just because this story is over, don't think you've seen the last of me. Check out my other SwanQueen fic, pick up my books of poetry, and stay tuned for more publishing news. Note that I may post either additional snippets of this story or life updates either here, to my author profile, or on my social media. You can find me on Facebook, Insta, and Twitter at EYWriterEditor. I'd love to stay connected with you all!**

 **XX**

Chapter 41: Epilogue: Part II

"Is it true what they say about women who orgasm during sex being more likely to get pregnant?" Emma asked.

On the examination table, she fisted the paper gown she wore, while the doctor continued to meddle between her legs.

Regina chuckled. "Unfortunately, I think that's an old wives' tale. Otherwise, there would be significantly fewer pregnancies in the heterosexual community, wouldn't you think?"

Elsa, their doctor and an old friend of Regina's, emerged from the sheet obscuring Emma's thighs. "Everything still looks great down here, ladies. We can proceed if you're both ready."

"How do you feel, dear?" Regina asked.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"Then I'll step out to bring in the specimen, then leave the two of you to it."

As Else left, Emma wrinkled her nose at the word "specimen'. Somehow it managed to sound both medical and disgusting.

"Now don't make such a face," Regina said, brushing her knuckles against the blonde's cheek. "We're about to create a life together. This is a moment to remember, and I'd rather not have _that_ particular expression burned into my synapses."

"Apologies, Your Majesty," Emma quipped, but to soften the sarcasm and show her her true feelings, she pulled her wife down for a kiss.

 _Wife._ She sung the word in her mind.

It was hard to believe they'd said their vows a year ago, harder still to think that all the ups and downs of their early relationship had led them to this minute, in this room. Here, where if all went well, Emma would soon carry their child within her womb.

As Regina's skilled tongue swept across her bottom lip, she was truly more than ready for what lay ahead.

A knock interrupted the two women.

Regina straightened up, and clearing her throat, said, "Come in."

Elsa returned. She carried a small container in one hand, which Regina accepted from her with a smile.

"We've gone over the procedure a dozen times," the doctor said. "Now all that's left is for you two to make the magic happen. The nurse and I will be out in the hall if either of you require anything. Regina, we'll look forward to seeing you in a little bit. Emma, remember that you'll need to remain in bed for at least a half hour once you're done."

"Aye, aye, doc," Emma said with a mini-salute.

With a last smile, Elsa departed once more.

"I wish we were at home." Emma's eyes traced over the Audubon prints hanging on the hospital walls. She tried not to let her gaze linger on all the medical instruments sharing the space with them, especially not the throat depressors, which threatened to set off her gag reflex.

"Me too," Regina admitted, "but let's have some fun with this. You can pretend to be my patient. I'll be your incredibly unprofessional physician."

A sly half-smile slid across Emma's face. "Well, you are _Dr_. Mills, after all."

In response, her wife leaned over the bed and nipped at her lips. One of the brunette's hands found her nipple, already taut from the chilly room and their nearness. As she pinched and rolled the vulnerable flesh, Emma let out a gasp. Heat flooded between her legs.

They'd avoided sex for two weeks, leading up to this moment. Both of them had practically been peeling the paint off the walls at the absence of touch-their primary love language.

Then, once Emma started ovulating, her sex drive became unbearable. A sidelong look from her love, a whiff of Regina's apple scent, even the brush of their hands against one another drove her mad. Had it not been for the other woman's resolve, she never would have lasted.

God, she wanted her wife.

"Get this thing off me," she managed around Regina's aggressive kisses, tugging at the hospital gown.

At once, the older woman's nimble fingers went to work on the knotted strings. A little less skillfully, but no less eagerly, Emma unhooked each button on the brunette's Ganni blouse, then tossed it on the floor.

When they were both shirtless, Regina climbed onto the bed and pressed their bodies together. The resulting pleasure made Emma's eyes roll back in her head. Her nerves stood on end, sensitized and alive everywhere they touched.

Already Regina was breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed. The signs of desire culminated in her eyes, two wells of dark bourbon, swallowing the blonde's heart and soul.

She squirmed under her lover, hoping to find some relief from the building pressure between her legs. But Regina danced away with a grin that showed her sharp eye teeth.

"Not yet, my pet."

"But, Gina, I've been waiting so long," she whined.

Her lover seemed to consider that. With a shrug, she said, "You're right. We both have."

She thrust her hips down between Emma's open legs.

"Oh God." The blonde squeezed her eyes shut, bit her lip as her clit found friction, and-then she froze.

Regina had a...bulge...between her thighs.

Convinced she must be dreaming, she rolled her pelvis up once more.

"Um, what is _that_?" she asked when the thing failed to go away.

"Oh this?"

Regina rose to her knees, topless and toned. Her hands toyed with the clasp on her pants.

"You packed the baster like Elsa suggested, right? So that we could conduct the insemination ourselves?" Regina sked.

"Yeah. I followed doctor's orders. Seems like you had other plans. Like growing a dick?"

The brunette chuckled. "I assure you, my dear, I'm still _all_ woman, head to toe. I just happen to have a little helper today. Would you care to see?"

Emma narrowed her eyes in suspicion, but nodded all the same.

Slow as sin, Regina unfastened the clasp on her pants. With a little shimmy of her hips, she dislodged the fabric from over her ass.

She wore no underwear. Just a black leather harness. And a flesh-colored strap-on that stood like a soldier at attention.

A dozen questions stampeded through Emma's mind.

"You've had that on all day? Here? And where did you get it? I've never seen it before. Did you-"

More words would have continued to spill out of Emma's mouth if the older woman hadn't placed a firm finger against her lips.

"My dear, I'd like you to meet the newest Ambrosia model, in fact the first and only of its kind. As a matter of fact, I had it specially designed for this occasion."

"You had it made?"

"Yes. It has all the features of the 3.0 that we love, plus a few extra."

"Like a tiny hole for sperm," Emma said, squinting at the thing mistrustingly.

"Don't talk to it that way," Regina said, covering its head, as if it had ears. "I thought you'd be happy. Maybe I shouldn't have surprised you?"

Emma took it all in-her wife's plump, pouting lower lip, the magic dildo that would get her pregnant, and the backdrop of the hospital room. She couldn't help the sputter of laughter that escaped before she swallowed it down.

"You know, I was a little nervous going into all of this," she admitted between giggles. "Sex should be natural, not performed in a lab on command. But I think you've set me at ease."

"Or embarrassed myself, more like," Regina muttered.

"Not at all." She sat up and handed over the container Elsa's had dropped off. "In fact, maybe you should load up."

When she was done following Emma's suggestion, the brunette allowed herself to be kissed. Slowly, her frame softened in the younger woman's embrace until they were melted together.

Emma kneaded her wife's back, always tight from stress. Her palms roved familiar curves and eddies, resting in pockets of heat, warming Regina where her skin felt cool.

Hungrier and hungrier grew the kisses they shared until Emma lost sense of time and space and everything other than the lips devouring her own.

She fell back against the pillows, pulling the other woman with her.

Her eyes remained closed, in a warm darkness, where Regina's every touch lit a different color in her mind.

They moved together like one being, the Ambrosia slipping in with no resistance. As Regina pressed deeper inside, the fullness made Emma's walls clamp down and release in quick succession. She couldn't stop her shuddering moans, muffled in Regina's neck.

"Does that feel good?" Her wife's words were barely more than a hot whisper in her ear, but they brought her unbearably closer to the edge.

"Y-yes."

"Tell me what you want."

"You. Harder."

Regina's form trembled atop her with apparent pleasure at the words, but she did not indulge the blonde's request right away.

"P-please, Your Majesty."

"Well, how could I deny such a delightful request." She punctuated her words with a sharp slap against Emma's back side that made the blonde yelp.

They'd come miles from when they first used an Ambrosia to now. Easygoing Emma had settled into the role of the submissive in the bedroom for the most part, and Regina's armored walls had come down brick by brick. Occasionally their roles reversed, but either way, they'd built a love and trust from a foundation that started in ruin.

As Regina plunged inside her, Emma wound her arms around the other woman and hung on for dear life. She could feel her nails digging deep into tanned skin as the pleasure mounted.

She knew she was going to peak high and quick after being denied sex for so long. But she could feel her lover was right there with her from the swift, sharp thrusts and the concentration woven between Regina's brows.

"It's okay," she said, hands dropping to guide her wife's hips. "Come in me."

Regina's eyes met her, pupils blown wide with desire, her mouth opening in an "O".

The older woman rammed inside her, crying out. The force of the thrusts and the sound of release took Emma suddenly and mercilessly over the edge.

Pleasure spilled from her core, swirled out to her fingertips and toes, driving a moan from between her lips. She climbed higher and higher in the heat of it, swept along in her lover's relentless pounding. Just as she started to shatter, to lose herself forever, Regina collapsed.

The full weight of the brunette on her brought her back to reality. She could feel her inner walls still spasming around the strap-on. She struggled to catch her breath with the heaviness of Regina's breasts pressing against her lungs.

It was heaven.

As though they had a mind of their own, her fingers traced shapes in the sweat pooled in her lover's lower back. She smiled at the first thought that popped into her head.

"So...did you actually come in me?"

Regina chuckled. "I did indeed, Mrs. Mills."

And whether or not orgasms actually increase the likelihood of pregnancy, nine months later, Emma gave birth to a healthy, baby girl.

And Henry named her Brooke, after the town they all called home.

THE END


End file.
